He kept his eyes on his task. “I just wish I’d gotten here sooner. And you could never look anything related to the term worse. You’re breathtaking. As always.”

My stomach squirmed at his compliment. It was weird how he could make me get all shy and flustered from only a few words after all the things he’d seen me do naked. I looked down at my knees, hoping he thought my flush was from the cold of the ice. “How did you know I’d be here, anyway?”

His mouth turned down at the edges. “I didn’t. I was coming to see Matt.”

“Oh. I sent him home.” It was silly to be disappointed. He’d been there for me all the same. It didn’t matter if he’d come for me or not.

JC’s brows drew in. “I can’t believe he’d leave you here alone like that.” His words were terse and barely controlled.

“It’s not Matt’s fault. I shouldn’t have opened the door.” It had been a stupid mistake. My father was only one of the many bad situations that could have met me. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

JC lowered the towel from my cheek and looked me directly in the eyes. “No, you shouldn’t have.” His scolding completed, he returned the pack to my now-frozen face. “But trust me, Matt’s going to get an earful from me as well.”

The moment felt vulnerable and fragile, and though it might have only been me that was really vulnerable and fragile, it seemed like JC was as well. “You and Matt have a lot more between you than just your rental of The Deck, don’t you?”

His eyes flicked to mine then back to my cheek. “Yes.”

“But you don’t want to talk about it.”

“No.”

So much for vulnerable. All I ever got from him was walls, walls, walls. He’d shown up like my knight in shining armor, and I’d wanted to believe that it meant something. That I was someone he wanted to save. That I was worth fighting for.

But how could he think I was worth anything if he wouldn’t tell me even the simplest of details about himself?

It was impossible. I had to wake up and smell the coffee once and for all—he was never going to open up to me. I was never going to needle my way in. A relationship built on anything more than sex was never going to happen between us.

I wrapped my arms around myself, new tears pricking at my eyes. At least, if he asked, I could pretend they were for my father rather than JC. Though I doubted he’d even care if I said they were for him.

I sat up straighter. “I got this.” I reached to take the ice pack from him, ignoring the buzz that surged through my body as my hand touched his. “Sorry you had to deal with this. I’m sure I can take care of myself now.” Norma had told me to stay with him, but I couldn’t deal with the pain of rejection on top of everything else that had happened that morning.

He chuckled, not relinquishing the pack. “I’m not leaving you.”

“It’s fine. Really. This goes far beyond what we are.” It was bitchy and uncalled for, but I couldn’t help myself. I was hurting in so many ways. Lashing out felt good.

JC put the ice pack down and tilted his head to look at me. “Gwen, don’t.” The two words alone in that serious tone—they bit into me. Made me feel childish. Made me lose some of my bravado.

Some. Not all. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t belittle us.”

I scoffed. “I’m not saying anything you haven’t said.”

He placed his hands on either side of me, leveling his gaze, caging me in. “You’re right. I said it. It was complete bullshit then and it’s complete bullshit now.” He waited a beat. “You know I have feelings for you.”

My breath got caught in my lungs.

“You do?” It came out as a whisper, barely audible over the sound of my heart thump, thump, thumping in my chest. Maybe my father had hit me harder than I thought, and I was imagining this whole scenario.

JC smirked at me tenderly—was that a thing? Could people smirk tenderly? Because that’s what he did. “Don’t act like that surprises you. I know you know that I do.”

My breathing was back now, fast and shallow. I pinched my hip to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, which never works. If I really wanted to be sure, I needed to ask him to pinch me. Since my face was starting to sting again without the ice to keep it numb, I decided that was proof enough of my consciousness.

I played it cool, as if I weren’t completely floored by the conversation. “I’m surprised that you’re admitting it.” That only lasted half a second. “Why are you admitting it?” And why couldn’t you before?

Because he was right—I did know that he had feelings for me. It was the only thing that made it possible to go back to him week after week. He’d had feelings for quite some time, just as I had. So why was he only telling me now, out of the blue?

God, I hoped it wasn’t out of pity.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” JC let go of the table and ran his hand through his hair, his focus somewhere beyond me. “I got some news yesterday that I’ve been wanting for a long time. News that should have made me very happy. And yet all I could think was, I wonder what Gwen’s doing now. And when I walked in and saw that assface about to hit you, I’m going to be honest, I wanted him dead. Even more when I found out who he was. That he was your father. Someone who’d hurt you before.”

He reached a finger out to trace the hem of my skirt across my kneecap, sending a smattering of goose bumps down my skin. “I thought that I could keep anything with you away from the rest of my life.” His voice was quiet now. Raw. “That I could lock it in the space of our hotel room. But you’re everywhere. You’ve permeated everything I do, Gwen. It’s problematic for several reasons. But I think I’m just going to have to figure it out, because I can’t pretend it’s not happening anymore.”

He looked up, his eyes lost and pleading.

My heart lurched. “Christ. You are married, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “No. I’m not married.” His expression settled and his gaze went back to my cheek. He picked up the ice pack and was silent for several seconds, dabbing it against my cheek before he said, “I was engaged.”

“When?”

He shook his head once. “Not now. Before you. Several years ago. Her name was Corinne.”

“Was? Is she—?” I didn’t know how to finish my statement without sounding brash.