“Hiding his job? It’s not that simple.” I braced my hands against the counter as my stupid, foolish heart split in two, one side siding with logic and self-preservation and the other…siding with him.

“I know that.” She set her glass down and gave me the motherlode of all sighs. “What do you like about him?”

“What?”

“Humor me.” She shrugged. “What could it possibly hurt to answer? It’s not like he’s listening or you’re giving him hope or something.” Her eyebrows rose. “Unless you’re scared that talking about it is going to make you rush up his stairs and jump him like you did at the top of that lighthouse, which, by the way, gives that boy an A-plus in the romantic date category, I don’t care how pissed off you are.”

The uninvited memory of his eyes in the moonlight and his arms around me smacked me in the heart, followed by the way his kiss had robbed me of every thought except more and now.

“Fine,” I growled, ignoring Sam’s little clap of happiness. “I like that he sees me. Not just the shell that everyone does, but he actually sees me. It’s like the man has X-ray vision for bullshit, because I can’t fake anything around him, and in a way, it’s so much easier because I don’t even have to try.”

“Okay. And?” she urged me on, hopping onto the counter and kicking her feet.

“And I like that he’s a really good dad. Finley comes first, and he makes no excuses for that. His sun rises and sets on that little girl, and it might sound weird, but that’s ridiculously hot.”

“That’s not weird. That’s thousands of years of biology.” Sam shrugged. “What else?”

I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I like that he pushes my boundaries, though I wish he’d let us stay in every once in a while. And I like that he’s patient with me and so very careful, but he doesn’t treat me like I’m breakable or weak. He just treats me like I’m something precious.”

“Because you are,” she assured me.

I humphed a little. “I like that he thinks so. I like that he’s sure enough to tell me that he wants me and then actually throw down and fight about it. I’ve never had anyone willing to really fight for me before.” It had always been me fighting for Will, begging him to give us a chance.

“That’s definitely a plus in his column,” Sam noted. “What else?”

“He knows I’m a mess. He’s seen me fall to the ground during an anxiety attack, and he didn’t run. He just helped me through it and came back for more. He’s seen me assault Will’s truck, and he’s still showed up at the door every day.”