Page 37 of Against All Odds

He looked at his beer and nodded. “I have just gotten an education about the pitfalls of living in a small town.”

“But are they coming to your place of work and callingyoua whore?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“Oh, Sable.”

He hesitated for a moment, then stood and walked around the bar to me. I blinked, unsure of what he was doing, but then he leaned against the counter next to me, close enough that I could feel his warmth.

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“About how you’re being treated because you spent time with me. I enjoyed being with you. I got the feeling you felt the same.”

I did, but the aftermath made me wonder if it was worth it. If the start of this was so difficult, how would we continue to live like this, under a microscope? And it wasn’t like Alexa was just going to concede her ex to me.

My hand tightened around the rag I was holding. “Heath?—”

“Just let me say this,” he interrupted gently. “I like you, Sable. A lot. I want to date you. Openly. I want totake you to dinner, to walk down the street with you, to dance with you, even when people are watching.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. “But?—”

“I don’t care what people think,” he cut me off again, still with gentleness.

“And your daughter?” I whispered.

He nodded. “I’m going to talk to her. I’ll explain everything. She’s smart—she’ll understand. I’m not worried.”

Well, dude, I am.

The question wasn’t about the impact of our dating—oh no, it was about whether this was worth it. He saw the uncertainty in my eyes, took the rag from my hands, and set it on the counter. His fingers brushed mine, and the touch sent shivers up my spine.

“I’ve never had this kind of chemistry with anyone in my life,” he claimed.

Neither have I. But I didn’t saythatto him.

“I saw you at Amore last night. Look, if you’re reconciling with your wife, then you should go right ahead and do that. I don’t want to be the other woman or anything,” I sputtered, getting the words out faster than a mountain stream after the spring thaw.

He looked at me with understanding and a tinge of amusement. “I will, from time to time, have dinner with my ex and my daughter, Sable, but that doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. We co-parent Juno. It’s important for me that Alexa and I maintain a healthy relationship, even a friendship if possible, because that’s the best thing for my kid.”

That made sense. It made a whole lot of sense.Butit didn’t change the fact that I was afraid. I’d never been good enough for anyone—how could I be for him when compared to someone like Alexa? She was educated, wealthy, polished, and had never needed to know how to patch a leaky trailer roof with duct tape.

“We’re just going to spend a little time together, right? It harms no one,” he persisted.

There it was again, his explicit instruction that he didn’t want a relationship. What had he said that night?He wanted companionship—which was a warm body to have dinner with and fuck after. Right?

My throat tightened, and tears threatened to sting my eyes. I wanted more, so much more, but I knew I’d never have it. Maybe this was as good as it got, and I should grab it with both hands. A decent man who cooked well and was damn good in bed. I didn’t want to have a serious relationship anyway—and why should I let the good people of Aspen decide who I spent time with and how?

I nodded, too shaky to speak, and he smiled like he’d just won the lottery.

“Come here.” He held out his hand.

I frowned, confused, but took his hand anyway. He led me around the bar to the middle of the tavern, where chairs were stacked, and the lights were low.

“What are you doing?” A small smile tugged at my lips despite myself. Heath Falkner knew how to romance a girl. I had to give him that.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and scrolled until soft music played a bluesy song. He set the phone on a table with upturned chairs.

“I want to dance with you,” he said simply.

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