He didn’t even need to ask. It was as obvious as the sunburn on her nose.
She cleared her throat and did not meet his gaze. “A little.”
She knew all about his past; well, enough that she probably should have run the other way when he’d offered her that first glass of sparkling wine. But she hadn’t, and the closer they grew over the last few days, the more convinced he had become that she was willing to look past all that and accept him for the man he was.
“I have never had a healthy relationship with a man before.”
It took a few seconds for his mind to process what she’d said. So it wasn’t him…it was her.
“You’re scared.”
She slid off his lap and plucked the drink from his hand. He let her go, even though he wanted to pull her closer, hold her tight until all that sadness that was suddenly radiating off her once again disappeared.
“That’s part of it, yes. But mostly, I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you.”
She lifted her hand before he could even open his mouth.
“I know you’re about to say I could never disappoint you, but I need you to trust me here. If you knew about my past, you would not be considering anything at all with me beyond what we’re doing right now.”
“I don’t care about your past,” he argued.
“My past could still catch up with me.”
“What do you mean?”
She stood on the hull, staring out over the waves they created as they sliced through the water. “I ran away. A year ago. Just up and left. Changed my name. Started over.”
Oh shit, had she run from an abusive ex? “Were you married to him?”
“You’re assuming I ran from a man.”
“Yes.”
“Good assumption. And no, I didn’t marry him. Also, he wasn’t the first one. There was one before him, and I almost did marry him. But he died, unexpectedly, and I ended up trapped with this other guy. Something happened almost exactly a year ago, and I saw an opportunity and escaped. But I do not think for one moment that he would not force me to go back to him if he knew where I was.”
“I can protect you.” It was an automatic response. He’d been the protector in the family for so long, he knew no differently.
And yet, it was different this time. He wasn’t offering because he was obligated; he wanted to help her. He wanted her to feel safe.
She shook her head. “No, you can’t, but thank you for offering.”
He wondered, vaguely, if she’d been connected to the mob. He knew the mob existed; his brother’s best friend was part of a mob family, and a buddy from high school had family ties to the Italian mafia. And if it existed in Detroit, it likely existed in Chicago.
Except, if she ran away, would she have stayed in the same city?
“Where is he? The guy you’re hiding from?”
She darted a glance at him, and he saw the fear in her eyes before she turned back to the water. “Detroit.”
Leo winced. Shit. That was a hell of a complication, wasn’t it?
“I’d be willing to move. With you. We could go west, start over somewhere. Or hell, let’s go to Europe. There are lots of bed and breakfasts there. Didn’t the concept start there?”
She laughed hollowly and then shook her head. “In England, actually. But, Leo, you hardly know me. You shouldn’t make offers like that.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.” She sighed and strode back to him, offering the nearly empty drink. He swallowed the contents, his gaze on her face.
“Let’s do what we’ve been doing since we met and just have a good time. For the rest of today. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about my past. And then you can decide if you still feel the same.”
“I will.”
“Tomorrow.”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Come sit in my lap, please. If we’re continuing to live in our bubble, I want to touch you.”
She did as he asked, curling up like a cat, wrapping her arms around his back and pressing her cheek against his chest.
He rested his chin on her hair. What in the hell could be so bad about her past that he’d be scared away?
Especially given what she knew about his own life.
Chapter Twelve
A few hours later, they returned the boat to the marina and headed to a nearby restaurant that came highly recommended from their innkeeper, whose own meals were to die for.
Leo wore his swim trunks and a T-shirt, and Shannon’s coverup could pass for a sundress, which meant they didn’t need to go back to the B&B and change into street clothes.
The hostess informed them that it would be about twenty minutes before they could be seated, so they headed to the bar to wait.
They were getting along fine, although the weight of her vague confession still pressed in on them, threatening to intrude, despite them both trying to keep it at bay.
She wanted to hold onto these last few hours, cling to this perfect little fantasy they’d created. Besides, she still wasn’t certain how much detail she’d give Leo, so she needed this extra time to sort it out in her head.
“Leo? Leo Beneventi? Holy shit, is that you, man?”
Shannon turned slightly on her stool to see who had called out Leo’s name. A man had just exited the restroom and was heading toward them, grinning ear to ear, his arms outstretched, like he was preparing to go in for a hug. He was Italian, good-looking…and she recognized him.
Shit.
The guy strode straight to Leo and slapped him on the back, that grin widening if
