Second Chances by Cheyenne Meadows Page B

question him. Instead, she simply went about chores
quietly and efficiently, though he caught her staring at him more than once,
her gaze filled with curiosity and wonder with a hint of interest.
    Way to go, dumbass.
    Yet, he
couldn’t quite bring himself to apologize and explain the show of affection meant
nothing. The simple act revved his dormant engine and heated his blood hot
enough to match the blistering temperatures outside. For some reason, kissing
April meant something more than a prelude to a quick round of robust sex. Her
touch sank deeper, softened his resistance, and prodded him to consider
possibilities.
    “My
parents still live in Oregon. I grew up there, started college there, before I
transferred to the University of Colorado. Ended up falling in love with the
area and stayed after graduation.”
    He
heard an unspoken hesitancy in her words as if she was holding important
details back. “That’s a long drive home. Why did you transfer?”
    She
looked down at her plate and played with her macaroni and cheese. “I met a guy
I thought I could love. Turns out he had a dark side. The first time he hit me,
I left. Finished up the semester and decided to pursue my schooling elsewhere.”
    He
sucked in a breath, grappling with a sudden rage at the thought of a man
raising a hand to any woman, but particularly to April. “How bad?”
    Glancing
up, she met his gaze before lowering her eyes once more, pain written clearly
on her face. “It was just a slap. Nothing horrible, but enough I knew I needed
to get away and fast.”
    His
tension eased only in the slightest. If he ever found the man, to hell with the
law. He would beat him to a pulp just for the audacity of hurting her.
Everything he’d seen from April told of goodness and kindness, certainly
nothing that qualified as deserving of a single blow. “I’m sorry. Some men are
bastards and deserve to be shot.”
    The
corners of her mouth hitched up. “Personally, I’d prefer dropping them in the
middle of a snake pit, but shot will work.”
    He
slowly grinned back at her attempt at humor. The revelation told him much more
about her. She’d thrown out her opinion on men and relationships once before,
but he didn’t have a clue how deep the sentiment went or for what reasons.
Considering what she’d been through, he was genuinely surprised she didn’t show
more nervousness or edginess around him, especially after he ranted at her for
offering lunch the first time. He grimaced at his surliness and regretted his
abruptness once more. Yet, he hadn’t known, and she had stood up to him like a
mother hen to a hungry fox.
    Respect
for her grew. She had no reason to trust men any more than he had to trust
women.
    What a pair we make. He couldn’t help but grin to
himself.
    Forking
a piece of meat, he ate for a bit before saying anything more. “What did your
parents say?”
    “They
helped me file a restraining order and launch a formal complaint both at school
and legally. With no evidence, there was no case, but they wanted the mark to
be on his record in case he hit another woman.”
    “Smart
people. Show a chain of behavior that would prove his actions weren’t a
one-time, heat-of-the-moment thing.”
    She
sipped her soda, and then tilted her head. “You sound like a lawyer.”
    “My
father was one. So’s my older brother.” He cringed as the words flowed out. He
always strove to avoid speaking about his family. Now, he stupidly opened the
barn door inviting April to fire away.
    “You’ve
never talked about them,” she quietly said.
    “We…don’t
get along.” He chewed and chewed, suddenly finding the delicious dinner roll to
be a bit doughy.
    “I’m
sorry to hear that. When’s the last time you spoke to them?”
    He
debated how much to offer up before giving an answer. “Three years.”
    April’s
mouth fell open as sadness and concern filled her eyes. “Oh. I really am
sorry.”
    He
swallowed, took a long drink to wash the lump of