Page 82 of Without Apology

He bit his lip and appeared to be trying not to smile. “Ah, right. In that case I should know them?”

My unexpected laugh had some of the tension leave me. I slid him the plate of food. “What happened at work?”

He took his time to finish chewing. “My boss rang and had us scrambling with something.”

“In other words, you can’t tell me what.”

“I wish I could because then you’d understand how stuck I was.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him. I simply wasn’t sure this short-term thing was worth the pain of getting hurt. Any pretense I’d perfected that this thing between us was only casual had veered off course the moment he’d upset me by not showing up. The disappointment proved I cared. Too much. I’d let him in and then been wounded when he hadn’t followed through.

“My father was a workaholic. Missed birthdays, holidays, sports, dance recitals, anniversaries. Sometimes I think he loved his job more than he did his family.” My voice was quiet. I hadn’t initially intended to share this with him, but I thought it might be important for him to understand my history with men who didn’t show.

His eyes locked on mine and he stayed silent, as if absorbing my words.

“I’m not trying to compare you. After all, we just met, and there’s zero chance of this thing lasting past next week. But I did want you to understand why today upset me beyond what it probably should have.”

He stood up, rounded the counter, and pulled me close. “What if I admitted the reason I put work first is because I have none of the things your father had? No family, no commitments, no one to miss me. Since I met you, I’ve experienced for the first time wanting to put something else before my job. As for zero chance of this thing lasting, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to increase those odds.”

“How?”

The weight of that one word hung between us.

“I’m not sure. All I know is when Phillip mentioned moving on to the next assignment, I felt none of the adrenaline or excitement I normally do. All I saw was a countdown of the time I’d get to spend with you.”

“This is crazy.” Yet I had the same feelings.

“Maybe. But given that we’re not insane people, perhaps it’s not.”

He kissed me then. Soft at first until I reciprocated, putting my arms around his neck, needing the connection now more than ever.

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