Page 13 of The Best of Us

“Come in. Close the door.” My words were rough and demanding, and I didn’t give a damn.

Her lashes fluttered as she thinned her eyes, remaining frozen. She held a hand to the door to keep it from closing on her.

“Come in,” I repeated, working hard to tone it down so it didn’t come across as a command to sit on my face.

Finally surrendering and joining me inside the lion’s den, the door shut behind her. I maintained my death grip on the chair arms, feeling like a caveman discovering fire for the first time—a cross between excited and terrified.

“I’m sorry to show up like this. I had planned to only leave a note with this for security, but when I provided my name, they insisted I see you.”

The security officers and Blair were very much aware that my anger would go from zero to sixty if she showed up and I didn’t know about it right away.

“My son used your card to buy something.” She slowly walked my way, then set the Tiffany’s box on the edge of my desk before backing up. Wise woman to keep her distance.

“I know.” I stared at her fingernails, pink like her lips. They’d been chipped yesterday. I shouldn’t have noticed, but I seemed to notice everything about her.

“Why didn’t you cancel your cards? And if you knew what he did, why didn’t you reach out? You know how to find us.” Her hand slipped to her outer thigh, and she patted her jean-covered leg before curling her fingers inward.

I didn’t want her to be nervous or uncomfortable around me. Ineededher to be. She didn’t belong here. She was too good forhere.“He did more than shop at Tiffany’s,” I said instead of answering her.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You have quite the Robin Hood on your hands.” I finally released the chair arms and stood. I didn’t round the desk, not trusting myself to get any closer. It’d be game over if she gave me any indication she was as drawn to me as I was to her. No chance of me remaining a “good guy.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured.

“He donated to quite a few charities. All A-plus ratings. He did his research. A lot of money, too. He’s still keeping at it. He must’ve taken photos of my cards.”

“Oh my God.” She turned to the side, eyeing the leather couch beneath the photograph of our family home in the Hamptons. “Mind if I sit?” Without waiting for an answer, she went over and dropped down.

I allowed myself to breach the barrier of the desk, but that was as far as I let myself go.

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you?—”

“I was curious what else he planned to buy.”And I really wanted an excuse to see you again.“Who’s the necklace for?”

“How’d you . . .” She shook her head, deciding to let that question go, knowing I must’ve called the store to learn more about “my purchase.” She slowly lifted her beautiful eyes to my face. “The heart locket was for me.”

My gut reaction to her soulful look was to lean against my desk and place my palms on it for support.How do I know you? I’m sure I do.That had to be why I was so drawn to her.

“My birthday is soon. He put a picture of me holding him as a newborn inside the heart.”

“How old will you be?” I would’ve known this had I given in and done my homework. My damn conscience was getting in the way lately, and I didn’t like it.

I pushed away from the desk and picked up the box.

“Normally, it’d be rude to ask a woman’s age, but seeing as my son stole from you and bought my birthday present with your money, I guess I can answer.” I was met with an adorable smile. “Thirty-eight.” I did the math, and she quickly cut off the calculations in my head. “I know, I know. I was young when I had Colin.”

“No judgment here.” I also didn’t want to think about this woman with another man, not even Colin’s father. The harsh possessiveness I already felt for this stranger shocked me back a step. “Keep the gift.”

She flicked her wrist. “No, I could never.”

I lowered the box to my side. “It’s not stolen. It was paid for.”Two grand, in fact, before tax.“Take it. I insist.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She stood.

I assumed she’d planned to take off like a lost lamb who finally identified the danger she was in, but instead, she went over to my bar.

Curious, I returned the box to the desk. “You feel like a drink?” I joined her, and she glanced at me over her shoulder.

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