As he looked into green eyes so like her mother’s, Trevor nearly lost his breath. “I bet you’re Olivia,” Trevor said, putting his hand out to her.
Laughing, she put her smaller hand inside his for a grownup shake. “My friends call me Livvy.”
“Well, hi, Livvy. My friends call me Trevor. I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”
She tipped her head to one side and looked him over, obviously judging him. He actually held his breath, while Lissa, who’d moved closer to her daughter, did exactly the same thing.
“Does that mean I can call you Trevor, too?” she asked, looking up at her mother.
Lissa clenched her jaw, obviously torn and not knowing how to answer.
“Livvy, want hot chocolate?” Kate asked, holding out a hand.
“Yes! Mommy, can I get hot chocolate with Aunt Kate? Please, please, please?” Being Trevor’s friend was forgotten in favor of a special treat.
Trevor straightened.
“Sure, baby. Go on,” she said, giving her daughter’s hair a ruffle before sending her with Kate.
“Let’s go, Nick.” Kate shot a command at the man.
“Drinks on me, ladies.” Nick, clearly clueless about the underlying dynamics between Lissa and Trevor, was just happy to be included and headed off with Kate and Livvy.
“She’s going to make him work for it,” Lissa said, watching the trio until they disappeared into the crowd.
Trevor shrugged. “Seems to me he’s more than willing to do whatever he needs to in order to make her believe in him.” He met Lissa’s gaze, hoping she understood he was talking about himself as well.
“Lucky her.” Lissa shoved her hands into her oversized sweatshirt.
She’d worn her long hair pulled back into a ponytail, with very little makeup, and she looked, in a word, tired. As though she hadn’t been sleeping well, either, Trevor thought.
“Lissa—”
“Trevor, look, we’re bound to run into each other from time to time—which is weird since ten years passed and we managed to avoid each other—but that’s life. If you could do me a favor and stay away from Livvy, I’d appreciate it. She doesn’t need mixed messages in her life.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. I agree she doesn’t need mixed messages. But my message isn’t mixed. Not anymore.”
Lissa’s expression went from neutral bordering on stiff to clearly nervous. She looked around, noticing the people passing by, catching sight of them, some whispering, some pointing.
Serendipity was a small town, population approximately 2,500, and yet it seemed like everyone knew everyone else. In this case, the fact that Trevor and Lissa were breathing the same air was news. Just as he’d known it would be.
And clearly she was just now realizing it, too. “We can’t talk in front of all these people,” she said on a sharp whisper.
“Yes, we can. Because what I have to say can damn well be said in front of an audience.” He hadn’t planned things this way, but now he realized it was his one shot at making her believe in him.
In them.
“I screwed up.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow, but she stood still. She was listening.
“I shouldn’t have walked away two weeks ago. I thought about you and me and the past ... and I panicked.”
“And now you’re fine? Now you can handle the fact that the daughter I love more than life itself is also Brad Banks’s daughter? How does that work, exactly?” she asked, staring him down even as tears streamed down her face.