Rafe’s knuckles whitened above his grip on the steering wheel. He definitely wasn’t one of the good ones. “She’s married,” he said, noticing the coldness that had crept into his voice.
He felt the tangible tension that worked into Fallon’s body, and her silence drove it home. He’d already made her regret what she said . . .
“It was a long time ago, back when I was stationed at Fort Benning in Georgia. She lives in Kentucky with her family. She’s not a part of my life now—she’s not someone I’m proud to admit anything about.”
“Are you telling me this so I don’t spill the secret to your friends that you had an affair with a married woman?”
Ouch. Her words bit into his flesh, stinging deep. “No, I’m telling you because you’re right. She’s the one I’ve been trying to forget.” Reaching over, he peeled her hand from her lap, pressing a kiss to her wrist. But she didn’t shiver. “And I think I finally have.”
Which wasn’t to say that the thought of her didn’t bring on the phantom pain lurking in his chest, but she wasn’t the one on his mind anymore.
Fear flashed across Fallon’s face and she gently pulled from his grasp. After a few moments of silence, she lifted her gaze back to him and finally spoke. “Do you love her?”
He shifted his eyes from the road and nodded, although admitting it to Fallon made his repulsion deepen. He hadn’t just had an affair with another man’s wife; he’d fucking fallen in love with her. “I did. But not the true kind,” he answered, setting his sights on the stretch of asphalt in front of him.
Pulling her legs beneath her on the seat, she faced the window again. “I’m not saying what you did was okay, because we both know it wasn’t, but we all make mistakes that we regret, Rafe. The heart is sneaky and manipulative, and more often than not it hurts even worse when we let ourselves down.” She looked at him again, and he returned her glance, her understanding creating a crater in his chest. He reached across the seat and grabbed her small, delicate hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the inside of her wrist.
“You sound like you speak from experience.” He looked at her briefly, but she quickly shifted her gaze back to the blurring landscape—but not before the phantom pain she tried to conceal reached the bursts of light in her eyes, dimming the fire in her just enough for him to notice.
“I didn’t just let myself down, Rafe,” she whispered.
Her parents. Rafe wanted to wring their necks for making her feel that she wasn’t worthy of their love. He’d been around her three goddamn days and already knew she was worth that and more. She wielded strength and compassion regardless of what their fucked-up perception of success was, and anyone would be lucky to love a woman like her.
Fallon’s fingers tightened around his and her determination was palpable in the grip of her petite hand. “You just tuck it away and keep it close to remind you of the way you never want to feel again.” Her spine straightened against the seat, releasing the strength she used as her crutch as the grip she had on his hand relaxed against his fingers. She stared ahead at the road in front of them, the volume of her voice rising as she spoke confidently. “And then you make sure you don’t.” But he was unsure whether she spoke the words for him or for herself.
• • •
Fallon stood in the kitchen holding a store-bought pie while Rafe loaded his beer into the refrigerator. For the first time since . . . ever, Fallon was nervous being in a crowd. She knew how to act, how to blend, what to say and when to say it, and could easily claim this shindig if she needed to. But the swarm of angry butterflies in her stomach was apparently going to challenge her ability to do so with ease. This was the first time she’d gone on—what was this even? A date? Did a cookout at a friend’s house classify as a date? The nerves she was unfamiliar with feeling might as well have been a Magic 8 Ball because that little sign pointed to yes.
“Here, I’ll take that.” Rafe shut the refrigerator door and took the pie from Fallon’s hands, setting it down on the counter next to the rest of the sweets. “What can I get you to drink?”
She absentmindedly chewed her bottom lip. Her mouth was a little dry all of a sudden. “I’ll have a diet soda if there’s any.”
Rafe winked and opened the fridge back up and pulled out a Diet Coke, pouring it in a Solo cup with ice. Then he added a small handful of cherries to the glass.
It felt like her smile was slicing open the corners of her eyes. Only a few, rare people knew the way she liked to drink her soda. “Thank you,” she said, taking the cup from him. “How’d you know?”