"It doesn't conquer all like they say."
He snorted.
"Can you see your mother being a cop's wife?" I winced.
"Right," he said dryly, wiping his forehead with his shirt.
"Sometimes love isn't enough.
And if it's not enough, what good is it?" The bitterness I heard in his words was something I knew very well myself.
I passed him and went into the kitchen.
My dad followed me.
"Are you in love with Gideon Cross?" "Isn't it obvious?" "Is he in love with you?" Because I just didn't have the energy, I dumped my mug in the sink and pulled out new ones for me and my dad.
"I don't know.
I know he wants me, and sometimes he needs me.
I think he'd do anything he could for me if I asked, because I've gotten under his skin a bit."
But he couldn't tell me that he loved me.
He wouldn't tell me about his past.
And he couldn't, apparently, live with the evidence of my past.
"You've got a good head on your shoulders."
I pulled coffee beans out of the freezer to make a fresh pot.
"That's seriously debatable, Dad."
"You're honest with yourself.
That's a good trait to have."
He gave me a tight smile when I looked over my shoulder at him.
"I used your tablet earlier to check my e-mail.
It was on the coffee table.
I hope you don't mind."
I shook my head.
"Help yourself."
"I surfed the Internet while I was on there.
Wanted to see what popped up about Cross."
My heart sank a little.
"You don't like him."