Page 85 of The Only Heart that Matters

“Hey,” I reply.

“It’s nothing fancy. Just a Caesar, spaghetti, and garlic bread. I wasn’t sure how you wanted to handle the sauce with this little guy, so I gave him bread to start.”

“Thanks.”

I’m not sure what else to say.

“Dig in, Goof.”

“It’s amazing how much work taking care of a kid is. It’s a good thing he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Angus plops down on the couch on a heavy sigh.

“I’m convinced it’s nature’s way of keeping them alive while they’re young. I mean, that face of his, it’s hard to stay firm with him sometimes,” I say from the kitchen, where I’m finishing up. Dinner was fantastic, but wow, did he blow up the kitchen.

He hung out with us during bath time and while I brushed Sawyer’s teeth and got him into his pajamas. Angus read him a bedtime story or three and I’ve been cleaning up in here after the bomb that went off while dinner was being made. It’s nice to know the man isn’t perfect after all.

His phone rings, but before he answers, he rises from the couch and heads toward the front door. “I’ll be right back.”

Waving a hand in acknowledgement, I don’t miss the flex of his jaw or the seriousness of his tone.

Done with the kitchen, I grab my e-reader from my bedroom. Well,hisbedroom and settle myself into my favorite corner of the oversized couch, cover myself in a soft fleece blanket that hangs over the back, and attempt to read the sexy billionaire romance I’m halfway through. If only I could get past the first sentence on the page. My mind is a roller coaster of questions and crazy thoughts.

Why did he have to go outside to take his call?

Who is he talking to?

Is he seeing someone?

Should I be moving my things to the spare room instead of sitting here reading?

I should start looking for a new place to live, so the man can have his house back.

But I don’t want to move out. In fact, I want the plumbers to take their time, lose parts and maybe never finish the loft. Not only would I get to keep Angus as a roommate, but he wouldn’t have his den of sex to take women back to.

The front door opens and keeping my eyes on my tablet, I wait until he’s sitting in the same spot he was when he got up, before I say anything.

“Everything okay?”

“Just one of my old army buddies. There’s this podcast host who's been asking me to be on their show for the last couple of years. He’s resorted to reaching out to one of the guys from my platoon, but I’m not interested.”

“Why don’t you want to do it?”

“There aren’t too many CMHs around and I get a lot of offers, but I’m not a fan of all the special treatment. I’m no different from any of the other soldiers I served with. I was just one of the lucky ones who survived.”

He never discusses his Congressional Medal of Honor. This is not where I thought our conversation was going, but I’m glad he trusts me enough to talk to about it.

“Yes, but you also saved others. You weren’t lucky, you were brave,” I say, from the other end of the couch. “Youarespecial, Angus. I wish you could see that.”

His eyes search mine. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but all I want to do is crawl into his lap and hold him. Make him feel as special as he is.

“I’ve talked to my therapist about it, and she thinks it might be good for me. I’m just not sure.”

He has a therapist?

Why this surprises me, I’m not sure, but I’m glad to hear it. My heart warms at the thought. He portrays himself as thisstoic man who doesn’t offer smiles freely, but if you’re fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of one, it’s everything. After the trauma he’s been through, I’m glad he’s talking to someone. I’m glad to see him smiling more these days.

“You know we’re all really proud of you. CMH medal or not.”

His gaze falls to his hands resting in his lap. He almost looks ashamed, which was far from my intention.

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