“Have a seat at the table, and I’ll get the coffee started.” She motioned and bustled about her kitchen, trying to find her calm again. “Pumpkin or apple spice? My mom makes the best crumble topping for the apple pie, if that’s something you like.” She’d made an effort, going over to her parents’ house to drop things by for Mick and, while she was at it, delivering some of the donuts her father loved. Her mother had then stopped by her office that morning, delivering two pies.

It had been a while since she’d felt so much hope.

She turned and caught him watching her.

“I like the way you move, Ella Tipton. Just so you know.”

Ella had no idea what to do with the things he said to her sometimes. He seemed so casually sure of himself. But she liked it most of the time.

He grinned at how flustered she was. “Apple then.”

She gave him a big slice. Having seen him eat, she knew he had a big appetite, and of course her mind wandered to how that translated to sex with him.

Sex had always been something she wished she was better at. Bill had been good at first. Kind. Saw to her needs in all sorts of ways, but he’d started to say things about how she was too eager for it, or too carnal, and how she was in danger of whorish ways. So she’d shut down. There’d been no girl on top. No oral. Missionary with the lights off. She’d kept totally silent because once when she made a sound, he’d told her she was wanton.

Now she had let the total opposite into her life and her bed, a man who seemed to love it when she was wanton. At times she struggled with what the heck to do with all the hormones running riot in her system all because of one Andrew Copeland who currently stared at her like he planned to do naughty things to her.

Which, she thought, wasn’t a bad way to end her day. At all.

First things first, though. She put the plate down in front of him and joined him with her own slice of pumpkin. “Coffee will be done shortly. Do you want to talk about your dad and Ben? Is that why you’re upset?”

“I do, but I can’t, not right now. God, I wish I could.” He sighed. “It has nothing to do with you, though, please understand.” He looked so miserable she wanted to kiss his forehead. Instead, she leaned forward and took his hand.

“I understand far more than you think I do.” She paused, licking her lips. They were on the verge of something, and she wanted to move carefully because they both deserved a deeper level of honesty. And because she cared about him and saw he was hurting.

“Sometimes things fall apart, Andrew. Sometimes you have to watch people you love be in terrible pain. And you’re afraid that you can’t fix it. And there are all these allegiances you have and you’re trying to protect everyone and it’s not possible to do that, of course, and so you feel terrible guilt because damn it why can’t you just fix it? And then you can’t speak about it for one reason or another. And silence when you’re being torn up inside is pretty painful.”

Her lip trembled, and Cope’s heart ached. Her eyes held unshed tears, and he had to keep looking up at the ceiling to stop his sympathy tears in reaction.

“I respect your silence if that’s what you need to do. But I’m here to listen to whatever parts of the story you can tell me. Or not. I’m here either way.”

Then there was quiet as she met his eyes and smiled, and Christ, he just sort of fell all the way into balls-out love for Ella Tipton.

“Now, coffee is ready.” She stood after a several long moments. “I’m going to make it and we’ll have pie and talk about other things for a while at least.”

The coffee was warm and good, what he needed along with the pie and her company. Even with the seriousness of the discussion, his attraction to her was undeniable. After being happily single for so very long, the utter certainty of how he felt about her fit him like a second skin. Each time they had these moments, he got to know her better, understood her more.

Something about her made him want to share. Christ, he found himself drawn to the way she just listened. He felt so quiet with her. Quiet so that he could enjoy the way she made him feel, the bloom of this new facet between them. Their chemistry was incredible, sensual, the tension between them growing in a way he’d never experienced before. So. Fucking. Good.

At the same time, it was all wrapped up with his need for her to know he was more than just that guy who’d flirted with her for years. With his concern that he’d rush her or hurt her unintentionally by pushing a button or acting like her ex for some reason.

“Thank you.”

Surprised, she smiled. “What for? Pie? I can’t take credit, it’s my mom. And I’d eat every last bit of it if I didn’t share it.”

“I’m always thankful for pie. You’re a good listener. Most people are good talkers. You’re a good listener.”

“Thank you for that. I figure if you can’t be there for your friends, who can you? I don’t want you to feel like you have to say anything to me at all about it. The last thing you need is more pressure. You’re here for pie and coffee. That’s all.”

“You’re not even going to try to kiss me good night?” He put his hand over his heart and pouted.

She blushed and then laughed so hard he had to lean forward and pat her back. More as an excuse to touch her than from alarm.

“Sometimes I don’t know how to respond to the stuff you say.” She rolled her eyes and sat back.