come here sooner, show up with goddamn flowers and balloons and a teddy bear.
Sadness billowed through her features. “I start again.”
Nodding, I took a step back. “Well, then I guess I’d better let you go. But please, call me if you need anything. Anything at all. You have my number.”
“Thank you.”
Could tell by the way she said it that there was no chance of that happening.
I eased forward and gave Gigi a scratch. “Bye, girl.”
Yeah. I was going to miss her.
Forcing myself to move, I gave Tessa a curt smile, strode to my truck, and jumped in the driver’s seat. I was unable to stop myself from watching her as she finally started to walk down the sidewalk. Except she didn’t get far. She just went and sat down on a bench, her dog on her lap, the girl mindlessly petting her for close to an hour.
Yeah. I knew how long she’d been sitting there because I hadn’t been able to drive away. I felt compelled.
Hooked.
Watching her through the tiniest break in the cars in front of me.
The girl was just…lost.
Could feel it from across the space.
I started my truck, backed out, and tried to convince myself to drive away.
I got to the T that led out of the parking lot.
To the right—my house.
To the left—her.
I squeezed the steering wheel and tried to talk some sense into myself.
“Shit,” I muttered before I turned left and came to a stop at the curb in front of her.
No sense found except for the one telling me I had to help this girl.
She jolted when she realized it was me. Green eyes widened in shock as I jumped out of the driver’s side and rounded the front. “What are you doing, Tessa? Where are you going?”
She blinked, and I realized she was fighting tears.
Had to resist the urge to rush her so I could wipe them away.
She laughed out an uneasy sound. “A hotel, I guess. I don’t know.”
Fuck.
Her house was destroyed. That was the second I realized this girl had nothing. No one was here to pick her up. No one had visited.
She was utterly alone.
What had I been thinking?
“Get in the truck.”
Surprise twisted her face before she frowned. “I…no. I couldn’t do that. You’ve already done too much.”
“Just get in the truck.”
She sniffled, shook her head, looked down.
In a second flat, I was kneeling in front of her, angling down so I could look at her face. I found her full-on crying, the girl choking back tears.
My heart fisted, doing crazy, manic things. “Get in the truck, Tessa. Please. You know I can’t leave you here. You think you’re doing me a favor by refusing? Believe me when I tell you I won’t be able to sleep until I’m sure you have a roof over your head. A safe place to stay.”
She looked up, pleading in her voice. “You don’t want my mess.”
“Try me.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know everything I need to.”
Disbelief puffed from her nose, but in it was surrender, too. Satisfaction pulsed, and I wound her dog out of her arms and into mine. I extended my hand. She hesitated, glancing between my face and my hand, before she took it.
Intensity boomed. That same feeling buzzing through my veins as it had the first time I’d touched her. This connection I didn’t get.
It rushed, feeding the need which I’d tried to shun that night.
Her throat wobbled as she swallowed, and I knew she felt it, too.
She pulled her hand away. “Okay…just for a night—until I find another place to stay. As long as it’s not an imposition. I-I…do you have a family? A wife? Kids? I can’t just barge into your life.”
“The only thing I have at home is an empty guest room. It’s yours for as long as you want it.”
Bleary eyes gazed up at me. “Why would you do this for me?”
“Because it feels like what I’m supposed to do.”
Purpose resonating. Boiling in my blood.
She nodded, then ducked her head and moved over to my truck. She opened the door and climbed inside, and I handed over Gigi, who wagged her tail and licked her face and seemed really damned keen on the idea of the two of them coming to my place.
Me, too, Gigi. Me, too.
Contentment burned as I rushed back around to the driver’s side and got in, this feeling like I was edging up on the cusp of something significant.
Something that was meant to be.
I didn’t drive straight home. I detoured to the