And then he burst it. Poked a hole clean through with his somber tone. “I don’t think I can do this. Not now.”

“Jokes? Or the talking-about-yourself thing?”

His eyes flashed to mine, and the dark, pensive look there had me walking back a cautious step as I waited for an answer, worried his continued silent stewing was one.

I watched in real time as I erected an invisible wall between us, my futile attempt to safeguard myself from getting my heart broken.

“Juliette.” There was a little self-loathing in the way he said my name. And the way his shoulders broke forward hurt me on his behalf.

“Yes?” My heart raced as I took a leap of faith forward, sidestepping my wall and erasing that space between us to set my hand on his forearm.

His eyes cut sharp to my touch, and the muscle in his jaw visibly clenched. “I’m worried you’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” I echoed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He kept his lips a hard line while expelling a deep breath through his nose. The way his chest was rising and falling made me want to check his pulse and blood pressure.

“You have far too much power over me, and I don’t know what to make of that.” There was enough grit in his tone to jumpstart hearts. “The fact I even admitted that to you proves my point.”

I blinked a few times. “Power over you?”

I couldn’t keep parroting everything he said, but it kept happening. And then the truth slammed into me, knocking me backward, and I lifted my hand from his forearm in understanding.

Power over you because of our son?

“As long as you’d never hurt him, I’d never keep him from you.”

“I’d give my life for him,” he said without hesitation, the promise lingering with absolute certainty as he finally met my eyes. “I don’t need to have raised him to feel that way. And I would for you, too. Not just because you’re his mother, but I . . . well, that’s just who I am.”

“Then if that’s the kind of man you are, you won’t lose us.” Shit, I’d slipped and said “us” instead of “him,” but I didn’t have time to autocorrect.

“I want to believe that, but you may change your mind.” He faced away from me, raking his fingers through his thick, dark hair.

Hating to see him in pain and also hating that he was scared I’d take his son from him, I set my hand on his back, hoping to reassure him. “It’s okay to be vulnerable, you know.” I went out on a limb and translated his remarks a bit more than he’d let on. “I get that’s a new feeling for you, but you’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling.”