Finally, I could tell him my news. Get it off my chest.

Since I had no available hands, he opened the door for me, wearing a frown.

“Who is she and where have you been?” he said in his steely voice, following me as I eased through the kitchen and down the hall.

I huffed. Really? He hadn’t been home in five days and I got this?

Dovey muttered something as I adjusted my grip. “This is Dovey, and I’m putting her upstairs. She’s exhausted. Can we do this in a minute? She’s kinda heavy.”

He gave me a short nod and tapped his book against his leg. “Come back when you’re done.”

I found the guest room nearest mine and lay her on top of the covers, remembering another time she’d stayed the night with me. She stirred around, her eyes blinking open.

“Nice digs,” she mumbled sleepily and stretched. Her pants shimmed off as she started undressing, obviously too tired to care that I stood there.

I backed up to the door, trying to be a gentleman but wanting to stay. “You need anything?”

She waved me on, but still I stood there, my eyes lingering on her exposed flesh. Leave, I told myself, but I couldn’t yet. Her face was too soft, probably from being tired, and she looked beautiful.

She turned to pull back the covers, and my heart thundered when I got a glimpse of her pink lace panties.

I groaned. I knew exactly what she tasted like under those panties. Hot and wet and sweet as honey.

Get the fuck out, I screamed in my head. But, of course, I didn’t.

Is it bad I was tempted to slide under those covers with her? That I wanted to press my naked body against hers and forget our past. That I wanted to claim her with my mouth and wipe all memories of Spider’s kiss away. But I wanted so much more than just a measly kiss.

Hadn’t it always been like that with her? Hadn’t she always consumed my dreams, my deepest desires?

Because right now my body was aching for hers. I wanted to talk dirty to her and taste her core until she came, her hands fisted in my hair. I wanted to get behind her and teach her that my cock was the only one she’d ever need. Never Spider. Never that stupid ass Jacques.

But I couldn’t do that.

I’d nearly told her the truth about some things out in the snow. I’d been so tempted to let it out, to spill my guts to her. Good thing I hadn’t. I didn’t need complications right now.

She sighed as she burrowed into the covers, and I wanted to hear her voice once more.

“Dovey?” I said, and she answered me with a soft snore.

I sighed, wanting to stay with her, which was completely irrational.

But, Dad was waiting for me, and I couldn’t put this off any longer.

I went back downstairs, leaving her.

He was sitting by the fire in his study, sipping on what looked like bourbon and coke.

First thing he said was, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here on Monday.”

Yeah. I sat on the brown leather couch near the fire. “You’re not around much anyway, so it’s not like I expected it. I see the sitting service more than I see you.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I missed him, and I was angry at his absences.

Enough is enough.

He rubbed his forehead, drawing attention to his tired face and the black circles under his eyes. Her death hadn’t been easy on either of us. He’d loved her.

I scratched on the leather, making little lines. “Did you ever cheat on Mom?”

He blanched. “Never.”

“You slept in separate beds for as long as I can remember…” I drifted off. I don’t know why I’d even asked. “It must have been hard for you. Not having a real wife. Of course, if Cara had lived, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We’d be a happy family of four.”

He sighed, exasperated. “Cara was not your fault.”

Yeah, right. Same old conversation. “I’m your son. You’re supposed to say that.”

He stood and paced, stopping to stare down at a photo of the four of us. “Yes, she’s gone, but she’d have ridden her bike out into the road if her mother had been here, too. Or me. She was strong-willed, just like you, and she loved to be outside. When you’re a parent, you’ll know you can’t keep your eyes on them constantly. Perhaps it’s on me because I never put that gate up at the end of the drive. I’d been talking about it for months, but I got busy…” His voice tapered off, and I startled at the flicker of guilt I caught. Is that what I sounded like?

He continued. “Perhaps it was Mary-Carmen’s fault for buying the bicycle or leaving her with a kid that didn’t understand the responsibilities. But most of all, the man who drove that truck was speeding. That’s what you should remember.”

“He hit her because I wasn’t there.” My hands balled up. “You don’t really blame yourself, do you?”

Because I didn’t want my torment for him.

He winced. “Some. All the what-ifs that went through my mind drove me crazy for a while, but then your mother got steadily worse and my energy went there.”

Mother.

I dug my fists into the side of my leg, my body tensing, waiting for the onslaught of pain that thought always brought. Annndd…it hit. I hunched down, hating myself. “I failed her too. I may as well have pulled that trigger myself.”

“You did not pull that trigger.” He sat beside me, his weight feeling good, like I wasn’t alone. “And I was supposed to be here, not you.”

“But I knew something was up. She was gearing up for another go around. I knew.”

“She used a gun, Cuba. She didn’t want you to save her this time.”

I scowled. “Just because you think she meant business, then it’s not on me?”

“She had deep-rooted problems that had nothing to do with Cara. I knew it when I married her, but when you love someone, it doesn’t matter what kind of past or problems they bring. Love covers a lot.”

He sighed. “Could you have watched over your mother your entire life? She would have eventually found a way whether you were here or not. Do you blame me for not getting rid of all the guns in the house before I left town?”

I shook my head.

Dad said, “She made her choices, but we have to live. I’m hurting too, and it’s killing me inside to see us like this.”

“I’m fine,” I said. But I wasn’t.