“Who was the baby?”
Her dark gaze flew to his. The pain he saw there was a stab to his heart, but he wouldn’t apologize for going straight to what was important. Mia was too important to sit and talk about things that didn’t matter.
She rolled her lips together, her teeth biting into the soft, plump skin. Deciding if she would tell him? He knew her well enough to know it wasn’t as simple as a photo of a friend’s child. His mind raced with possibilities. The most logical being she’d been married even though she wasn’t now.
“I adopted a child. A little girl. I had her for nine months. It didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The mother changed her mind,” she said, looking down at her lap, shaking her head against what she was saying. “It happens.”
But it shouldn’t have happened to her. He moved closer and took her hand. “I’m sorry,” he said again, knowing how much that would have hurt her, still hurt. And he couldn’t stop himself from thinking the child in that picture should have been theirs.
She nodded, stared at his thumb stroking over the back of her hand.
“Who was the man you were with the other day?”
She pulled her hand free, and he was almost sorry he’d asked. Almost.
“Brian? A friend and a private investigator. I was asking him for help.”
“What kind of help?”
She looked at him a moment until he thought she wouldn’t tell him. “I needed help getting some information. Just want information. That’s all,” she added emphatically. “I just need to know she’s okay.”
The baby. He wondered if she knew she sounded like she was trying to convince herself that was all she wanted.
“Brian said…”
She hesitated, and anger welled up inside him that she would be talking so easily with another man about something she couldn’t seem to or didn’t want to share with him.
“Is that why you came tonight?”
“No. It’s not.” She met his eyes. “I don’t even know why I didn’t think of it, of asking you, but I didn’t.”
“How long has it been?”
“Almost nine months. She’s been gone as long as I had her.”
He didn’t want that to be the reason she was here, but he hated that she hadn’t thought of coming to him for help for something so important.
They’d shared everything for so long. Now she was going through her own heartbreaking loss, and he didn’t share in it. That was wrong.
“It’s wrong that you’ve gone through this alone. Not just alone, but without me.”
“I’ve been doing everything without you for a long time.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, not angry. Just the truth.
“That’s wrong, too,” he said, eyes locked with hers, daring her to disagree. “It feels wrong, Mia.”
She shrugged. “It’s the way it is.”
His fists balled at his sides. “And Brian? Is he more than a friend?”
“Are you asking me if I’m sleeping with him?”
He stared at her, fighting the picture that was forming of her with another man.
“No. We went out. Maybe he wanted more.” She shrugged, shook her head. “We’re friends. I’m embarrassed to say there hasn’t been anyone since you.”
No one? It took a second for that to sink in. She’d been alone? He closed his eyes, absorbing the meaning of her words and feeling the punch.
No one. At all. No man had touched her, held her. It hurt him, and it made him so glad he hated himself. His Mia had been alone, with so much love to give that she’d adopted a child, and then she’d lost even that.
“I guess you can’t say the same,” she said, looking at a spot beyond his shoulder.
“Mia—”
“No. Don’t. Really.” She met his eyes. “And why does it even matter? About Brian?”
“It doesn’t.” He leaned closer until his mouth was no more than a breath from hers. “I’m going to kiss you anyway. I think I’ll die if I don’t. I think we both will.”
He registered the wary surprise in her eyes just before his mouth covered hers. Going slow, he teased her lips apart, tasted her, and groaned at the sensations it all brought back. He’d never thought to kiss her again, to touch her. What a crazy thought that had been, that he could actually survive without her.
Her fingers twisted in the front of his shirt. Waves of hunger vibrated through both of them, along with subtle waves of fear. She tore her mouth away, leaving his lips at her temple. “I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know why I’m here.”