Page 65 of Starcrossed Colorado

“Someone called you from an LA area code the day I had a migraine. Was that really a wrong number?”

He didn’t answer for a while, and when he did, it wasn’t satisfying. “There are things I can’t tell you.”

“Is this about Maisie’s safety?”

“Yes. I believe it is.”

I exhaled. “Then you don’t have to say anything else. I’m sorry I brought the envelope upstairs where she could see it.”

“You didn’t know.” He wiped a hand over his face. “But it would be best if you don’t mention this to Grace or Callum.”

My stomach sank. All of this felt off.Wrong.

“You don’t want me to tell your siblings? I…I don’t know if…”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“I get that. But this seems really weird. And concerning. This is some kind of secret from your family?”

“Emma, you don’t understand,” he snapped.

“Clearly not.”

He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m an asshole.”

“You did sound like one just then.”

He leaned against the counter, hunching his shoulders. Neither of us spoke. I was so bewildered.

A few moments ago, he’d been smiling. Happy. Now he looked like he hadn’t slept in a month.

“Ashford…”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you earlier. That was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

My mouth opened, then shut. His sudden shift had blindsided me. Especially the way he’d said it, so devoid of emotion.

“I’m sorry too.”

If this affected his daughter’s safety, then of course that should be his priority. But I had a hunch why he was pushing me away.

I was getting too close. Interfering with the careful boundaries he’d put up, just like when I first got to town.

Well, I called bullshit.

But I wasn’t going to stick around to prove him wrong. I’d already gotten involved with a man who had secrets, and I couldn’t put myself in that situation again.

It hurt, though. So, so much. Because every cell in my being kept telling me to trust him. But if Ashford refused to let me in, there was nothing I could do.

SIXTEEN

Ashford

I was sitting aloneat a dark corner table at Hearthstone, nursing my second beer, when Grace came up to me. “What are you doing over here all by yourself? You look like you’re brooding.”

“Probably because Iambrooding.”

The majority of my anger was directed at myself. But still. Brooding.

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