My mother had told me that once, after she and dad had argued over her interviewing for a job. She’d wanted it. Dad hadn’t wanted her to leave the family business.

I didn't even remember the specifics of it, but when I’d asked her later why she hadn’t just gone after it anyway. I'd been maybe seventeen, eighteen, and the feminist in me had balked at my father's behavior. And then she'd given me that advice.

I’d taken those words to heart in all aspects of my life, but it was no good if I only did it when it wasn’t that hard.

Ash and I didn’t have a relationship, but I could still listen to what he had to say.

Besides, if I were really honest, I’d have to admit I didn’t want to be alone just yet. If I was, I’d have nothing to think about except the note, and I needed a few minutes of not thinking about it.

All night, I'd thought about calling one of my brothers. I'd thought about going back home, even. Back to the house where I’d grown up with my parents.

In a way, that house would always be home. But I hadn't let myself do it. I wasn't alone now. As angry and hurt as I was, it was nice to have somebody here, even if it was him.

“Fine,” I said finally. “Say what you have to say.”

“Do you mind if I sit?”

Mind? Out loud, I said, “Sure. Make yourself at home.” I threw open my arms, sarcastic warmth filling my voice. “At least until you say whatever it is you have to say. Then you can get the hell out.”

The caution in his eyes scraped against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard and I turned on my heel. I needed coffee to deal with this. Alcohol would have been better, but it was too early and I wasn't that desperate. Yet.

More than a little spiteful, I almost didn’t pour him any, but at the last moment, my mother's upbringing kicked in, and I fixed him a cup as well. After I’d doctored mine with cream and sugar, I carried both back with me into the small space I used for a living room.

It wasn't much, but it was mine.

Curling up in my favorite chair, I stared at him over the rim of my mug. “So, what’s this big, important thing you need to talk with me about?”

His eyes still focused on the coffee I’d given him, he sighed softly. For a few moments, he didn’t speak at all. Finally, he shifted his attention to me, his bottle green eyes seeming even brighter against the dark shadows that lay under them. “I already told you that Isadora gave me a rather strong talking to last night.”

“Talking to?” I snorted at the phrase.

To my surprise, he gave me a sad smile. “You can thank my mom for that. She learned it from my grandmother. Gram was...well, not exactly what you would probably expect.”

He paused and took a sip of coffee.

When he continued, I had to admit, it surprised me even more. The personal talk wasn't like him.

“My grandfather met her in Mississippi. It was pretty much love at first sight. She was...” He puffed up his cheeks before blowing out a quick, hard breath. “Let’s just say he surprised everybody, and shocked society when he brought back the beautiful girl from Biloxi, Mississippi. She didn’t give a damn what anybody thought of her, and her favorite thing to do was shock the hell out of everybody.” He smiled, a fond one. “You probably would have liked her.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” I asked levelly. “You don’t do relationships, and me liking her would only matter if you and I were involved. You made it clear last night that all we have – had – was a sexual relationship.” I gave him a hard look. “Please note the past tense.”

His eyes darted away and a shadow crossed his face. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Past tenses?” I asked, saccharine dripping from the words.

He ignored me. “I'm glad Isadora told you about Lily.”

“Oh, yeah. I could tell. It was so obvious by the sweet way you talked to me.” I stirred my coffee, watching the liquid swirl in my favorite mug.

“Yeah, one of the other things I’m sorry for.” His voice was soft. “But if I hadn’t done that, then we wouldn't have argued, and Isadora wouldn’t have torn into me. And I wouldn’t have figured some things out.”

He put his coffee down and rose.

My heart skipped a beat, then another as he went to his knees in front of me. The look in his eyes was intense, and I felt like he'd cut me open, laid me bare, with that stare alone. I felt more vulnerable and exposed now than I ever had.

I didn’t like it.

When he reached out and covered my hand with his, I flinched.

He didn’t move his hand though, or stop talking.

“She asked me a question – just a simple one, but I couldn’t answer her. I still can’t.” His thumb rasped across my skin.

Between the intensity of his voice, his eyes and the rub of his thumb across my inner wrist, my thoughts were in shambles.

“She asked me what the point was.”

Confused, I shook my head.

“She asked if there was a point to anything. To everything. She told me that if I was going to push everybody away, keep everybody out, then what was the point to anything I did?” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’m alone. The only person in my life is my sister, and we’re growing apart. She doesn’t need me the way she once did. She has Colton, and something tells me she might be looking for a new place, making a home somewhere else for the two of them. Then it'll just be me in that big house. What do I have in my life, Toni? There’s...nothing.”

Seriously? He came here to whine? “Yeah, I can see how you have so much nothing. You have a giant, beautiful house, and cars that would make my brothers weep. You belong to an exclusive sex club where beautiful women line up to submit to you.” I curled my lip at him. “That’s a whole lot of nothing, all right.”

But my voice shook. My heart was aching despite myself, while another part of me warned me not to let myself get sucked in again.

“Things don’t make a person happy, Toni.” He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm.

Jerking my hand away, I glared at him. “Yeah, I know that. Now you're starting to get it and you're considering trying something else to fill the void? Yay. Goodie for you. Go find a girl who cares.”

Not one who's already in love with you and tired of hurting.

I shoved him back and stood, moving into the kitchen to get some space between us. I needed to be away from him. My heart couldn't take it. Tears burned my eyes and I could feel myself coming apart.

He came in behind me, his steps slow. Not hesitant, but slow, like he was giving me time to move away.

I wrapped my arms around myself and ducked my head. I wanted him to go, to leave and never come back.

And my heart broke even more at the thought of never seeing him again.

“I’m not considering anything, Toni. I’m realizing. I don’t have a life. I have an existence, and it's all I've had for a long time. Maybe since even before my parents died. And I’m tired of it. From the moment I saw you, I felt more alive than I had in years. I want that. I want you.”

“Want is easy,” I whispered. My voice shook and I squeezed my eyes closed. I could feel it in my chest, the most dangerous thing I could feel.

Hope.

I couldn't hope.

Even though I knew he was close behind me, when he touched my shoulders, I jerked. I spun around, anger and panic sending my heart racing. My eyes were wide, hands shaking. Too much. It was too much. The letter, now him showing up here like this...I couldn't take it.

Sucking in a breath, I started to babble out some sort of lame excuse to cover up my reaction, but it was too late. His eyes narrowed on my face and whatever else he might've wanted to say vanished.

“What’s going on?”

Shit. He didn't need to know any of this. “Nothing.”

He shook his head. “You're lying. When you answered the door, you looked like you were going to take my head off with that bat. I thought you were just pissed at me, but you didn’t know I was coming. And now that I think about it, you looked more scared than mad. Something’s going on. What is it?”