Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

Dillon threw his head back and held his stomach. “Nana, what are you tryin’ to do to me? Kill me? Told ya I was starving.”

She chuckled. “Soon, Dill, soon. Didn’t anyone ever tell you patience is a virtue?”

“What’s a virtue?”

Oh, goodness. Normally, I could keep up with the constant shifts in conversation, quick to answer all of Dillon’s million questions, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the ticking of the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Problem was, I wasn’t sure if it was a bomb.

Benjamin hobbled his way over to me, and I leaned over and pressed my lips to his forehead, breathed him in.

He angled back, the expression on his face a little confused, far too knowing, smiling at me as if he were trying to get a read on what was on my mind. “You okkkay? You seem more nerrrvous than when you went to yourrr interview.”

That’s because I was. Working was a necessity. And Maxon could be a travesty.

I touched his cheek. “I am, sweetheart. Don’t you worry. I’m just a little nervous to see my old friend.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” My mama shot me a wink.

I scowled at her.

She laughed a small laugh.

“Will I liiike him?” Benjamin asked, genuinely curious, and my heart was thumping more.

“I think you will, sweet boy.”

That was right when the doorbell rang, and my heart that had been thrashing against my ribs crashed right through. A tumble across the wood floor.

I knew that’s what I was doing. Laying my heart at his feet and praying he didn’t stomp all over it.

Inhaling deeply, I smoothed out the beige blouse I was wearing with the delicate lace ruffles on the collar and arms. I’d matched it with my best fitted cropped black pants and a pair of heeled sandals.

Nope.

I wasn’t dressin’ up for him.

Not at all.

It rang again.

“Well, go on,” Mama chided.

Benjamin busted out in laughter. “Whaaat’s wrong, Mom? You sccccared of cops?”

Just this one, Benjamin. Just this one.

I tossed a look at all three of them, Dillon at my mama’s legs begging for a biscuit, Benjamin leaning on the island. “Remember, I’m gonna be a bit. I need to talk to him first, and then we’ll be in, okay? I need you both to stay in here and wait. Do you understand?”

“Ah, Mom, but didn’t you hear that I’m starving? I’m gonna be a pile of bones on the floor if you gotta have a conversation. What do you gotta talk about that’s so important, anyway?”

“Yeah?” Benjamin added.

“Just . . . old friend stuff.”

God, I’d dug myself into a hole. And suddenly I was feeling paranoid that I’d done this all wrong. Yesterday’s invite had been nothing but a knee-jerk reaction. The memory of my mama saying I should invite him over paired with the thankfulness that he’d rescued me when he had.

I should have called him and asked him to meet me somewhere else.

In private.

It wasn’t like Faith wouldn’t have his number.

Because this was suddenly feeling like an ambush, and I’d never wanted to be the attacker.

But I’d already done this, and the man was at the door, and I couldn’t keep stalling for a second longer.

I inhaled and pushed through the swinging door, legs shaking as I moved through the living room. I paused only when my daddy poked his head out of his study. “You need me, just start screaming. I’ve got Gretchen locked and loaded.”

“Daddy,” I scolded.

He shrugged his bony shoulders. “What?”

“There won’t be any need for any shotguns, no matter what, you hear me?”

“Fine,” he grumbled and retreated back into his study, and I set my hand on the doorlatch and the dead bolt, counted to three—inhale-exhale-inhale—before I turned the lock and opened the door.

Was stupid to be taking in all those deep breaths, considering when I opened the door, Maxon was standing right there, and I was hit with a swell of lightheadedness.

The man so stunning, I was shooting a hand out to the jamb to keep myself standing, knees going weak.

The stubble from yesterday had been shaven, his face so pretty it could make a girl weep.

Wearing dark jeans that fit him just right, a blue-collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up those muscled forearms, all the colors on his arm sending my mind into a whirl.

A spiral of patterns that sucked me right in.

I wobbled.

He chuckled. “Whoa there, Little Bird. You okay?”

My head jerked up when he called me by the nickname he’d given me the first time he’d seen me, and my shallow breaths were turning ragged.

Everything came at me all at once.

I steadied myself, pulling it together the best that I could, a weak but real smile arching at one side of my mouth.

Because I realized right then I had no shame. I’d done nothing wrong. It was time I pulled up my big-girl panties and stopped acting like this man held the power to shatter our world.