A lump rose in Chloe’s throat. Ian couldn’t say more magical words if he tried. During how many basketball games, art shows and teacher nights had she fantasized about her father hiding in the back? Ian had done exactly that for his son.
How she envied Matthew Black. Ian was offering his son the gift of a lifetime—the chance to know he mattered.
She reached across the table and grabbed Ian’s hand. “Jack’s wrong. Your son deserves to hear your apology in person. Don’t let him talk you out of going.”
Ian stared at the fingers resting on his arm, soft and golden against his own pale skin. Comfort seeped from her touch, warming places inside him he hadn’t realized were cold. Common sense said he should pull away, but his selfish side wanted to enjoy the sensation. “Sweetheart, did you read any of those internet articles? Once I make up my mind, you’d need an atomic bomb to move me from my position.”
“So you’re going to see your son.”
He nodded. “Today. He’s attending the state university in Pennsylvania.” The trip couldn’t be more than three or four hours. With luck, he could be there by late afternoon, and home before midnight.
Chloe was smiling. “Good. The sooner the better, if you ask me.” She spoke emphatically, with an unreadable emotion behind her words that didn’t fit the situation. From the glow in her eyes, you’d think she was the one receiving the apology.
“No offense, but for a woman who heard my story only five minutes ago, you sound pretty darn invested.” Reluctantly removing his arm from her grip, he sat back so he could better see her face. “How come?”
“No reason.” Her darkened cheekbones disagreed. “You’re doing a good deed. I’m showing support.”
“Good deed? Hardly.” This apology was as much for him as it was for Matt. Guilt over his many sins had driven him to drink in the first place. If he didn’t atone for his mistakes—or at least make every effort he could—how long before the face he saw in the mirror drove him to drink again?
So no, his actions weren’t good. Like everything he did, they were underscored by selfishness. The last thing he needed was a beautiful young woman looking at him with stars in her eyes.
Much like Chloe was looking at him right now. As though he was about to climb Mount Everest or cure cancer. A man could live on a look like that for days. If he deserved the admiration. “I’m no hero,” he said. Reminding her and himself.
“At least you’re reaching out to your son and letting him know you care. Some fathers couldn’t care less.”
Hers, perhaps? The way the sparkle faded from her eyes suggested as much. Ian’s insides hurt at the thought. Then again, maybe it was his own guilty conscience needling him.
He could ask her, but the mood had already grown far too somber and serious. Funny how he opened up around her. Even after pulling back the other night, here he was, sharing his biggest secrets. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t stop himself, either. He simply felt comfortable around her in a way he never felt around anyone else.
Looking for a lighter topic, he spied the black garment bag draped over the spare chair. “Shopping?”
“Excuse me?” Chloe pulled her thoughts out of whatever fog they’d disappeared into.
“The dress bag.”
She shook her head. “Maid of honor dress. My friend Delilah is getting married next week. To our boss, if you can believe it.”
“That’s one way to get a promotion.”
“Aren’t you cynical?”
Ian laughed. “Occupational hazard.” For as many women whose hearts he’d broken, there was an equal number who’d been after the money.
“I didn’t realize coffee vendors were such a catch,” Chloe replied.
He laughed again. This was why he enjoyed talking with her. “Haven’t you heard? Caffeine’s the new sexy.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“As for your friend...?”
“Delilah. In this case we’re talking real, honest-to-God true love. If there is such a thing as soul mates, it’s Simon and Delilah.”
“Now who’s sounding cynical?” There was a definite weariness in her last sentence.
“I’m not cynical. I’m broke. Both of my best friends are getting married this spring, and I’m maid of honor at both ceremonies. Although, on the plus side, I do get some completely useless dresses out of the deal.”
There she went, acting cavalier again. Without the sunglasses to shade her eyes, the act didn’t work as well. “You can always pay them back by getting them a completely useless wedding gift,” he suggested. “Gold-plated salt and pepper shakers, pearl-handled shrimp forks. Just make sure you stay away from silver candlesticks. I still have the scar from when my ex-wife tossed one at my head.”
Chloe winced. “Ouch.”
“Ouch indeed.” She didn’t know the half of it. “In fairness to the candlesticks, the injury wasn’t their fault. Jeanine and I were the equivalent of gasoline and a match. Some people aren’t meant to have relationships.”
“No, they are not.”
Referring to himself, he didn’t expect to hear her agree so quickly. Or with so much bite. “You’re bitter because your boyfriend cheated on you.” Which reminded him, he needed to stick Aiden on a few more late-night Saturday shifts.
Chloe reached for her coffee. “For your information, I am completely over Aiden,” she told him.
“You sure?”
“Honestly? Other than the embarrassment factor, I wasn’t all that into him.”
Then what caused the shadows behind her smile? Something—or someone—had given rise to her jadedness. If not the Irish barista, then who?
Ian’s thoughts returned to her earlier comments regarding parents. Fathers could screw up so much, he realized with sudden despair. What if Matt felt the same way about relationships? Jeanine had never married again. Ian...well, his dating history was well documented. Had he doomed his child to a life as cold and meaningless as his own?
“What’s wrong?”
Ian shook his head. “Nothing. I was thinking I should get on the road soon, if I’m going to make it to the school before dark.”
“I didn’t realize the time,” Chloe said, glancing down at a watchless wrist. “I’m sorry to keep you.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you stopped by. It was nice having someone to listen.” He stared at the hand resting on the table, his own itching to entwine their fingers. To physically connect as they had moments before. Needing a distraction, he grabbed his cup, hoping coffee replaced needs besides “Like I said, I don’t have many friends anymore.”
“You have at least one now.”
She meant her. The declaration settled over his shoulders, solid and warm, like an invisible embrace. Friendship was a luxury he hadn’t afforded himself in a long time.
“A very sweet one, too.” How long before he let her down? If he listened to the ache pulsing through his limbs, it was only a matter of time before he turned a touch into another mistake.
No reason to make the mistake today, he decided, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Rain’s getting heavier. I better grab a cup of coffee and hit the road. Next time you come in, the coffee’s on me.”
“Again?”
“Again,” he repeated with a grin. “We’re developing a pattern.”
“Might be easier to buy our own and call it even.”
“Might be.”
He was dragging his feet. As soon as he left the coffee shop, he would be on his own, and while he normally didn’t mind solitude—had grown used to it, even—he wasn’t quite ready to leave Chloe’s warm presence.
“Would you like some company?”
Focused on walking to the counter, Ian almost missed the question. When he finally realized what she’d said, he had to stop and repeat the question in his head, to make sure he heard correctly. “You want to come to Pennsylvania?”
“Why not? I don’t have anything planned. Plus I could help distract you if you get nervous.”
“I don’t get nervous,” he told her. “I get focused.”
She shrugged. “Hey, if you don’t want the company, just say so.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I...” This wasn’t a conversation he felt like having from opposite sides of the coffee shop. Making his way back to the table, he stopped short of her crossed legs. “Why?” he asked her.
“I don’t understand.”
Yes, she did; she was dodging the question. Ian leaned in. The fact that Chloe had stayed seated gave him a height advantage, and he had to admit he enjoyed the way her chin tilted upward. “Do you always offer to go away with men you barely know?”
She jutted her chin higher. “A day trip isn’t exactly going away. Besides, barely knowing me didn’t stop you from telling me your life story.”
“Curlilocks, I haven’t come close to telling you my life story.” Nor, he realized, had she told him hers. Other than knowing she’d played college ball, worked in advertising and had lousy taste in boyfriends, he knew very little about Chloe Abrams. Hell, the only reason he knew her last name was because of Aiden.