That last realization was the one that bothered him the most, because he’d never wanted to do anything to upset her. Not when they’d first started dating, not when he’d fallen in love with her—which had probably been on their second date—and not now.

He liked her. He’d always liked her. He enjoyed looking at her. He found her sexy. He liked how her mind worked and how she was a genuinely nice person. He admired her smarts and her emotional courage and how she took care of her ridiculous dog.

And that was the problem. The liking. Yes, it had just been one evening, but he’d found himself way too comfortable with her. Being with Reggie had always been easy, and that hadn’t changed. The feel of her next to him, the warmth of her body, the way she’d laughed at the movie, had made him think about possibilities. He’d imagined taking things further—asking her out on a date, just the two of them. He’d pictured them getting to know each other again, finding out if the sparks were still there, and once they’d gotten started on sparks, maybe they could start exploring hearts.

Only he couldn’t. No, he wouldn’t. He’d screwed up once, and Harrison would be dealing with those emotional scars for the rest of his life. That was on him. Keeping his son safe at any price was his responsibility—he wasn’t going to fail him again.

But he could try to repair things with Reggie. He could explain, at least part of it, and apologize. Because he’d been wrong and he hated the idea of her being mad at him.

To that end, he arrived at the community center a half hour before the knitting session was to start, hoping to find her setting up. Luck was with him. She was just pulling the large totes of supplies out of a locked closet.

As she turned to put them on a cart to wheel them to their room, he took the tote from her.

“I need a minute of your time,” he said.

Her brown eyes flashed with a combination of anger and hurt, but she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. Because the Reggie he knew was always ready to take on the fight. She wouldn’t start it, but she would stand up for herself, and she would see it through to the end.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I was wrong yesterday.”

“Just yesterday?”

Despite everything, he felt his lips twitch. “Let’s deal with one transgression at a time.”

She didn’t speak.

He put the tote on the cart. “I screwed up and sent things in a direction they didn’t need to go. I warned you off, but the person I was talking to was myself.”

Some of the mad faded. “I don’t understand.”