Page 99 of Caught from Behind

And Christ, I like this man.

My heart flutters, fear warring with those big feelings, but I step in, shore up my Adler spine, and save my man from further prodding. “What’d you bake up today?” I ask, nodding at the tin in her hands.

“Zucchini bread.” She lifts the container. “Want a piece?” she asks Riggs, pulling off the lid and offering him a slice.

He takes the piece she all but thrusts at him and shoves it into his mouth whole. “Delicious,” he says around the massive bite.

I grin at him then decide to put him out of his misery, lifting on tiptoe and kissing him lightly.”I’ll see you later, honey,” I murmur before I take Donna’s arm and start drawing her toward the salon. “Bye, Todd-o-Rama,” I call sweetly as we walk by Riggs’s dad.

Realizing I know the grumpy old man, Donna starts to stop, to make another offering of zucchini bread, but I save us all the hassle by snagging a piece, thrusting it into his hands and ordering, “Enjoy.”

Something I doubt is actually possible.

He grunts in reply but I don’t delay, just toss him a jaunty wave and lead Donna up the stairs to the salon.

“Um,” she says as we walk. “Who was that?”

“Riggs’s dad.”

“His dad?” Donna asks, brows shooting up. “That’s a big step for my Ella who never sees a guy more than once.”

There those nerves go again, twisting and twining and making my knees quiver. “Riggs is different,” I tell her—and myself. Because I don’t want him to be another guy—because he isn’t. And because I’m not going to lie to myself and pretend otherwise. Yeah, I’m shaking in my boots because I care far more than I should, but…

The feelings are there.

I’m not going to be able to shut them off.

What else can I do but ride that Adler courage and see this through to the end?

“Yeah, sweetie,” Donna says, resting her head against my shoulder for a second and sighing. “I had different once too.” A beat. “Hold tight to him, okay?”

My heart squeezes and I don’t like the sad in her voice. I want to see her giddy, want to see her smile again. So, I ask, “How was your date with George?”

Now it’s Donna’s turn for her cheeks to go pink.

“Pooh,” I tease lightly. “I may have a hot hockey player, but you have a hot silver fox.”

She swats at me and we’re both laughing as we walk into the salon, but my laughter stoppers up in the back of my throat when I see Kit standing at the front desk, holding court in his domain…

And doing it while looking like shit.

Pale skin. Dark circles. Puffy eyes.

I freeze, barely hearing Donna as she continues talking.

My eyes are on my friend. On another person I hurt because I’m so fucked up inside that I?—

A pat on my hand draws my attention from Kit. “I’m going to pass these out,” Donna says softly, holding up the tin and disappearing further into the salon, though not before leaving a slice on top of a napkin on Kit’s desk. Voices lift and exclamations about the deliciousness of her yummy baked goods reach my ears, but I just stand there like a lump, struggling with what to say, how to make it right.

Then I know there’s not anything that will make this easier.

So…I start with what I owe him most.

“I’m so sorry.”

His shoulders hitch up around his ears, and I wait there in front of the desk, my feet all but glued to the floor, hoping that he’ll lift his head and look at me.

He doesn’t, not for a long moment, not for long enough that the guilt starts tearing through my insides again.

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