gaze all day long—because he knew now there was nothing cold about Cora. She was warmth all the way through. Warmth and goodness and burning, passionate heat.
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m not going back to him. Ever.”
For a moment, Trent wondered if this were what it felt like to be a king—to be proud and sure and to feel like you could take on the world. That’s how Cora made him feel. She boosted him, made him fearless. Because seeing her grow and change inspired him. Seeing her stand her ground and make good choices for herself made him want to do the same.
What’s the good choice here, pining after a woman who’s got her exit strategy booked and paid for? Falling for a woman who’s going to grow her wings and fly away from you?
It’s what Rochelle had done. It’s what his siblings had done. They were all soaring toward their goals and their dreams, and he was still standing on the ground with his head craned toward the sky.
Maybe Liv was right. He was doing so much stuff for other people that he neglected his own life.
“Come on,” she said, her hand curling into his. “You promised me another reading session.”
And with the saucy twinkle in her eye, all his thoughts and worries vanished. Overthinking never did anyone any good.
Chapter Eighteen
The next day Cora sat at the kitchen table and tried her hardest to concentrate on fixing her manuscript. Ever since she’d found that photo of Trent in his real mother’s arms, she’d been fighting the urge to confess. It felt like a betrayal to keep it a secret.
How did you feel when you overheard him talking with Liv about your life?
Not great.
It wasn’t fun to be the object of someone’s gossip, and she most certainly didn’t want him to feel like she’d been spying. Or prying. Cora sighed. If only she had a crystal ball that would tell her the best course of action. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him…
No matter how much she tried to come to a conclusion on that problem, her mind spun around and around like a hamster wheel. Moving fast but going nowhere.
Maybe part of it was selfish. She didn’t want to lose the time she had left with Trent. When she was with him…
Everything felt right.
Even her novel was flowing. Maybe it was all the sexy reading sessions with Trent. Maybe it was fresh air and sunshine suddenly reviving her creative juices. Maybe it was being away from all the toxic bullshit in New York.
“How about option D, all of the above?” she muttered to herself.
Whatever the reason, she was happy for the boost of creativity. And to make things even better, she’d finally figured out what was missing from her story…romance! Reading to Trent had sparked the idea that there was a reason her main characters were always at odds. They were hot for each other, and totally mismatched in the best way possible.
Romance had been lacking in her own life for so long—even while she was with her ex—that she hadn’t even seen it as a solution until now. But Trent had changed that. Her lips quirked into a smile as she watched him working. He was in jeans and a tight white T-shirt that showed his muscles off to perfection as he used a screwdriver to change the knobs on a big cabinet sitting alongside the far wall of the living room.
“Stop perving on me,” he said over his shoulder. “I caught you looking in the mirror. You’re supposed to be working.”
She laughed. “Then stop bending over. That peachy ass is a distraction.”
“I’m being objectified right now, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, and you’re loving it, too.” She dragged her gaze back to her laptop. Her manuscript was now a sea of Track Changes as she tried to fit her new romance plotline into the story.
Instead of reading to Trent from her latest romance book, she had read to him from the book she was writing. It had been terrifying to share her words with him, to expose something that was part of her. She’d had good feedback before from her professor, but her father’s rejection had dinted her confidence. Yet Trent had looked at her with wide, smoky eyes and told her that she was talented and gifted and that her future was bright. She wanted to believe him with all her heart.
But what if her father still thought her book was unpublishable?
The cursor