Page 52 of Single Chance

Dammit. To hell with awkward.

“Can I hug you? As a friend? You look like you need it.”

She hesitated, then nodded.

I stepped forward and enfolded her in my arms. She wrapped her arms around me and leaned her head against my chest. Relaxing into her touch, only then did I realize how much I’d been yearning to feel her in my arms again. There was a rightness to it that didn’t make sense. Maybe it stemmed from the fact that we shared such a big, intimate secret and yet were unable to show any kind of ties other than professional ones at work. That took effort. Caused a strain. And now, finally, the strain was gone.

“This is your home for as long as you need it,” I said.

She sniffled, then laughed quietly, her head still resting on me. “I’m sorry. These are tears of gratitude, not sadness. Pregnancy hormones are no joke. I cried during a stupid TV commercial the other day.”

“Cry all you need to,” I said, grinning with her.

As I breathed in her floral scent, there was a stirring in my body, a reaction below the waist that had me putting a little space between us. The intent of the hug wasn’t to get a cheap thrill. I didn’t want to put her off or raise her guard. My objective was to be there for her, support her, be a friend.

Though I would never say Rowan was fragile—from what I’d seen, she had a quiet, determined thread of steel inside of her—she needed care and friendship right now, not some dudewith a hard-on. I’d invited her to live here with the intention of providing something she needed—shelter and support.

I ended the hug. No need to make things weird on the first day.

“You’re welcome to use the kitchen anytime you want, to make whatever you want, but tonight, I’m treating to carryout from Henry’s.”

“I love Henry’s. But I can pay for my own.”

“Not tonight, Rowan. It’s your welcome dinner, and I’m not taking your money.”

She grinned. “I didn’t realize you have a bossy side. I guess it’s fitting since you’re my boss.”

“I’m not your boss.” I shook my head but couldn’t help smiling back, knowing she threw that line at me just to get under my skin. “Let me know what you want before dinnertime.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“You need any help unpacking?”

She glanced at her belongings and shook her head. “It’s mostly just my clothes. A lot of the other stuff will stay in boxes.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” I headed toward the door, stopped when I reached it, and looked at her. “Make yourself at home. I’m glad you’re here.”

She met my gaze, appearing startled at my admission, then said, “Me too.”

Chapter Seventeen

Rowan

Monday morning, it was a relief to go to work.

Living with Chance was…tricky.

He was a charming, thoughtful host, making me feel welcome while giving me space, but it’d been a long time since I’d had a roommate besides Gram. Living with a man and his teenage daughter was different enough, even when you didn’t consider that I’d slept with said man once, was carrying his child, and still found him incredibly attractive.

It was going to take some time for me to be able to fully relax and feel at home, if that was even possible. Because I needed to keep my guard up against that attraction.

I was in a vulnerable spot. I could fully own that my emotions were a nonstop churning storm. Not only was I grieving the woman who’d raised me, but I was adjusting to the idea of motherhood, straddling the line between caution and hope. Caution because my pregnancy was high-risk. The truth was, I was terrified something would go wrong. I was scared to nurture those hopes about holding my own child in my arms.

In other words, I was a hot mess even before adding living with the sexy, off-limits father of my baby.

So yeah… Work would be a break, at least when I wasn’t working directly with Chance.

This morning, I had a meeting with Chloe. When it was time, I picked up my notebook and headed toward her office, thankful Chance’s door was closed as I passed.

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