If You Were Mine
“No.”
Atlas looked up at the tone of her voice, and moved to put his head on her lap as if to comfort her.
“What did they do to you, Heather?”
She sighed, knowing that if Zach had been that persistent about getting her to have dinner with him, there was no way he was going to leave this one alone without getting her to eventually tell him what he wanted to know.
And maybe it would help him understand her reluctance to date him if he knew more.
“Everyone loves my father,” she told him. “It’s what always made him such a good salesperson, that people can’t help but be charmed by him.”
“Selling what?”
“Used to be chemicals. Now it’s cell phone towers all over the country.”
“How much time did he spend on the road when you lived at home?”
“About half the year.”
“That’s got to be hard on a kid.”
She liked how he made it sound like they were talking about someone else. “My mother worked overtime to keep us busy when he was gone so we wouldn’t have time to think about being lonely or missing him. And it was always a big celebration when he returned. He got me great presents from the road to make up for being gone.” Presents she’d wanted to smash into a zillion little pieces when she’d found out the truth.
“Did it work?”
She met Zach’s gaze. “No.” She reached down to stroke Atlas’s head as if to steel herself for what was coming next. “But it was worse when I found out he’d been cheating on my mother for years. For their whole marriage, actually.”
Zach cursed. “That sucks.”
“You want to know what was even worse than that?” She couldn’t wait for him to reply, not when the words were suddenly tripping over each other to get out of her mouth. “She knew about it.” Heather pushed her plate away. “All those years, even now, she knows he’s cheating on her, but she stays with him anyway.”
She’d never told a man this before, hadn’t even come close to letting one in enough to speak about family secrets. If someone had told her a week ago she’d be spilling her guts to the cocky man who owned the auto shop, she never would have believed it.
“Why do you think she stays?”
It was the question she’d asked herself a thousand times over the years. “He always makes sure to tell her how much he loves her. Even though we all know it’s a big fat lie.”
* * *
Zach Sullivan was pissed off. Beyond angry. If her father wasn’t 2,500 miles away, he’d be hunting him down to pound him into a wall.No wonder Heather wouldn’t take a chance on being with him even in the short term, if all she knew were “charming” men who lied through their teeth to her and her mother. It killed him to think of her as a young girl stuck in the middle of all that.
Seeing the virtually untouched food on their table, the waiter came over with a worried expression. “Does everything taste okay?”
Zach watched Heather pin on a false smile. “It’s great, thanks.” She slid her fork into a chunk of chicken, but she didn’t put it in her mouth, just pushed it around on her plate, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Thinking about what a dick her father is, he guessed. And why her mother doesn’t have a backbone.
He’d hugged his sisters’ tears away a hundred times over the years, had listened to Summer pour out her feelings about a boy she liked in second grade who liked to pull her pigtails. But he’d never been tempted to comfort a woman who wasn’t part of his family.
Zach knew it was dangerous to feel this way about Heather. She was breaking all the rules, ones that had never been in danger of cracking apart before.
But how could he possibly leave her like this, with shadows in her eyes?
The thing was, he knew Heather didn’t want his shoulder to cry on, that it would only wound her pride. Fortunately, he’d sat through one of Summer’s “shows” only a few weeks earlier, and all the bad seven-year-old jokes were still firmly lodged in his brain.
Although he’d never felt less like making a joke, he also knew he’d never needed to make one more. “What do you call frozen dog poo?”
Heather’s eyebrow rose as she looked up from her mutilated chicken chunk. “What did you just say?”
“A poopsicle.”
Her eyes widened as she realized he was telling her a joke.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just make that horrible joke.”
“What happened when the dog went to the flea circus?”
“Please, don’t make me guess.”
“He stole the show!”
She groaned and put her hands over her ears. “Someone, anyone, please make it stop.”
“What do you say to a dog before he eats?”
Relief swept through him when she played along by scrunching her eyes shut and whispering, “Bone appetit.”
For the rest of their dinner they each worked to see who could tell the worst joke while they polished off every last bit of the Indian dishes. Zach was pretty sure he won by a landslide, but even if he hadn’t, he’d memorize the contents of every bad joke book in the world if it meant putting a smile on Heather’s face.
He hadn’t just broken the rules tonight, he’d smashed them to smithereens. But for a couple of hours, he decided he didn’t care.
Besides, there was a big difference between laughing with Heather and falling in love with her. He’d wanted to sleep with her from the start. It was no hardship to add laughter—and comfort—to the mix.