Page 14 of Take Her from You

It could only be… My jaw dropped. “Ben?”

Valentine sighed.

“Fine,” I grumbled. He’d been betrayed by his own brother. I could share. “The people I was living with wanted to control every part of my life, and I had to break away.”

“Your baby daddy one of those people?”

“No, he’s dead.”

Valentine widened his eyes. “Damn. Are we sorry about that?”

Despite myself, I broke out with a laugh, and crammed my hand to my mouth to stifle it. “No one has ever asked me that before. Honestly? I feel bad that my daughter will never get to ask him questions, but no, I’m not sorry.”

“And the people weren’t your people, which makes them his?”

God, he was perceptive. I shook my head, gesturing to him. “It’s your turn. Why, no, how did Ben screw up your engagement?”

“That, my new friend, is a story too far.”

I knew those well.

A man appeared at our table, two plates in his hands. He settled them in front of us, and my stomach growled. Valentine had chosen the beer-battered cod, and it came with a heap of fries, peas, and a wedge of slightly charred lemon.

“Oh my God, I’m suddenly ravenous,” I uttered. “Thank you so much. I mean it. I can’t remember the last time I had a decent meal.”

He gave me a wink, so effortlessly sexy that my heart skipped a beat.

In our short exchange of information, I’d come to realise a couple of things about Valentine: his heart had been broken badly, and he used flirting as a defence mechanism. He’d called me a wet dream. He’d had another woman ready to go home with him.

The barman reappeared with two side dishes, one chicken wings in a sticky sauce and the other with a rainbow selection of veggies.

“Don’t be shy. Share with me,” my roommate said with a grin.

Wasn’t that the most tempting offer I’d had all year?

We ate, conversation ceasing for a while. I’d worked so hard today that replenishing my strength took over my thoughts.

Valentine consumed his dinner like a man on a mission, and to fuel a body as big as his, that probably wasn’t far from true. After he’d offered me the final chicken wing, he sat back, hands to his belly, and smiled.

“I needed that. My stomach thought my throat had been cut.”

I laughed. “Didn’t you have lunch?”

“Too busy working on your new place.” He winked at me. “Another drink?”

I stared then managed a headshake. “Were you really there all afternoon? I saw you on the field doing martial arts training.”

“Went there after and worked straight through until dark. I told a lie about eating—Daisy brought us coffee and some little cakes. That was it.”

An unfamiliar sensation swirled in me. My mother aside, I wasn’t used to anyone voluntarily doing anything for me. Definitely not something so huge as working his backside off for no reason.

“Why?” I sputtered.

“Why what?”

“I mean, thank you. I just don’t understand.”

He regarded me with curiosity. “Guess I can see why ye left home if that’s the treatment you’d expect.” He gestured to himself. “You’re in need of a place to live. I’m willing and have the time. What possible reason would I have not to help out?”

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