How could she say that what Darren Tuttle and his friends did to her hadn't ruined her life? She was twenty-eight the first time she had sex. "What happened with him?"
"He was ten years older than me. He told me he'd had a vasectomy years ago because he didn't want kids. I stupidly fell for that, thinking we had something special."
Mac wanted to cover his ears so he wouldn't have to hear about yet another terrible hurt.
"We were together twice before he texted me to say he had to get back to the mainland to take care of some business, but it'd been nice knowing me. He'd been gone three weeks when I realized I was pregnant."
"That bastard."
"I don't regret it. Thomas is the best thing to ever happen to me. I love him more than anything."
"His father should be helping you. Financially, at least."
"I'd never want him to know. What if he came back and tried to take Thomas from me? I'll never tell him."
So the woman everyone thought of as the town tramp had had sex exactly twice in her life. Mac churned with things he wished he could say and anger he didn't know what to do with. He wanted to find all the men who'd harmed her, starting with her deadbeat father, and pummel them until they hurt the way she had. Even that, however, wouldn't be enough. It would only be half of what they deserved.
"What're you thinking?" she asked tentatively. "You're so quiet."
Mac made an effort to keep the fury out of his voice. That wasn't what she needed from him after sharing secrets he suspected she probably hadn't shared with anyone but her sister. "You're one of the bravest people I've ever known, and I'm honored you told me all this."
"I'm not what they think I am."
Her quiet dignity affected him more than anything else. "I already knew that."
"I didn't want to like you. You're Evan McCarthy's brother and Linda's son. But you're not like them. You're so much better."
"Thank you, honey," he said, his voice hoarse with emotions he'd never felt quite so strongly before. That she had trusted him with her deepest secrets was one of the best gifts he'd ever received. He reached up for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "I wish I could take a big broom and sweep away all the old hurts."
"You're sweet to want to."
"I really wish I could."
"No one's ever wanted to do anything like that for me before."
"That's too bad. You deserve to be happy."
She squeezed his hand. "I told you all my stuff. Now you have to tell me some of yours."
In an effort to lighten the mood, Mac regaled her with funny stories of growing up with three brothers and a sister that made her laugh, and he swore he made her cry when he told her about the injury that ended his professional baseball aspirations. As she continued to hold his hand, she asked about the women he'd dated, and he told her. After what she'd shared with him, keeping secrets from her—any secrets—just seemed foolish. By the time they ran out of conversation, the first hints of daylight were peeking through the windows, and his arm had fallen asleep hours ago, but still he held her hand.
He'd never felt more energized by a sleepless night.
Maddie couldn't find Thomas. He wasn't in his crib or at Tiffany's. She ran through the yard screaming for help, tears streaming down her face. Someone had taken him from her. The one person she truly loved. She screamed for him again and fought the hands that tried to stop her from running down the street.
"Maddie. Honey, you're dreaming. Wake up."
Mac. All at once, she was fully awake with sickening pain radiating from her knee and arm. He sat on the edge of her bed, brushing the hair off her face.
"Thomas," she said, her voice rough with sleep and fear.
"He's sleeping in his crib."
"Will you make sure? Please?"
"Of course."
While he was gone, Maddie tried to calm her racing heart and shaking hands. Only a dream . Only a dream .
"He's fine," Mac reported. "Sound asleep." He returned to sit once again on the side of the bed. "Are you
"He was ten years older than me. He told me he'd had a vasectomy years ago because he didn't want kids. I stupidly fell for that, thinking we had something special."
Mac wanted to cover his ears so he wouldn't have to hear about yet another terrible hurt.
"We were together twice before he texted me to say he had to get back to the mainland to take care of some business, but it'd been nice knowing me. He'd been gone three weeks when I realized I was pregnant."
"That bastard."
"I don't regret it. Thomas is the best thing to ever happen to me. I love him more than anything."
"His father should be helping you. Financially, at least."
"I'd never want him to know. What if he came back and tried to take Thomas from me? I'll never tell him."
So the woman everyone thought of as the town tramp had had sex exactly twice in her life. Mac churned with things he wished he could say and anger he didn't know what to do with. He wanted to find all the men who'd harmed her, starting with her deadbeat father, and pummel them until they hurt the way she had. Even that, however, wouldn't be enough. It would only be half of what they deserved.
"What're you thinking?" she asked tentatively. "You're so quiet."
Mac made an effort to keep the fury out of his voice. That wasn't what she needed from him after sharing secrets he suspected she probably hadn't shared with anyone but her sister. "You're one of the bravest people I've ever known, and I'm honored you told me all this."
"I'm not what they think I am."
Her quiet dignity affected him more than anything else. "I already knew that."
"I didn't want to like you. You're Evan McCarthy's brother and Linda's son. But you're not like them. You're so much better."
"Thank you, honey," he said, his voice hoarse with emotions he'd never felt quite so strongly before. That she had trusted him with her deepest secrets was one of the best gifts he'd ever received. He reached up for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "I wish I could take a big broom and sweep away all the old hurts."
"You're sweet to want to."
"I really wish I could."
"No one's ever wanted to do anything like that for me before."
"That's too bad. You deserve to be happy."
She squeezed his hand. "I told you all my stuff. Now you have to tell me some of yours."
In an effort to lighten the mood, Mac regaled her with funny stories of growing up with three brothers and a sister that made her laugh, and he swore he made her cry when he told her about the injury that ended his professional baseball aspirations. As she continued to hold his hand, she asked about the women he'd dated, and he told her. After what she'd shared with him, keeping secrets from her—any secrets—just seemed foolish. By the time they ran out of conversation, the first hints of daylight were peeking through the windows, and his arm had fallen asleep hours ago, but still he held her hand.
He'd never felt more energized by a sleepless night.
Maddie couldn't find Thomas. He wasn't in his crib or at Tiffany's. She ran through the yard screaming for help, tears streaming down her face. Someone had taken him from her. The one person she truly loved. She screamed for him again and fought the hands that tried to stop her from running down the street.
"Maddie. Honey, you're dreaming. Wake up."
Mac. All at once, she was fully awake with sickening pain radiating from her knee and arm. He sat on the edge of her bed, brushing the hair off her face.
"Thomas," she said, her voice rough with sleep and fear.
"He's sleeping in his crib."
"Will you make sure? Please?"
"Of course."
While he was gone, Maddie tried to calm her racing heart and shaking hands. Only a dream . Only a dream .
"He's fine," Mac reported. "Sound asleep." He returned to sit once again on the side of the bed. "Are you
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