She decided she could accept him believing the worst about her. “It’s not even worth talking about,” she whispered after several moments.

He waited, giving her a look that told her she was being a fool, and he wasn’t going to even respond. She finished her coffee and sat there. Neither of them moved. Minutes passed.

“Fine. What do you want me to tell you?” she said with a huff.

“I want to know everything in that pretty little head of yours.”

“That’s not asking a lot or anything,” she said with a false laugh.

“Chloe,” he said with a sigh. “You’re putting off the inevitable. You want me to trust you, but you’re unwilling to.”

“What makes you think that I can trust you?” she asked.

“I’m not the one of us who’s hiding things. Whatever happened to you in the past, can’t you see that you’re safe with me? I don’t think you ever feel protected,” he pointed out, making her flinch.

“I don’t even know why you’re pushing this so hard. I don’t know where to begin,” she snapped.

“You can start by telling me what had you frightened. That’s a beginning.”

He wasn’t asking for much, but the one thing he did want to know was the thing she absolutely didn’t want to share.

“My father wasn’t the nicest man,” she began. She was grateful he wasn’t touching her. “Growing up, he had high expectations of my brother and me, and we rarely met those standards.”

She felt Nick tense beside her, but she didn’t look at him. If she did, she would lose her courage, and then they’d be right back to arguing.

“My dad believed in using an iron fist. He’d punish us often. I’m sure it was no worse than many kids had it, but I was afraid of him, afraid of disappointing him.”

“Where was your mother?” he asked. There was a simmering rage in his voice, though she could hear that he was trying to keep it from boiling over.

“She was the obedient little wife, always in the background. She would mend us when he’d go too far, but she’d always tell us we shouldn’t disobey, that it was so much worse when we did.”

“Was that what your dream was about?” he asked.

“One time, my brother and I got into some candy that was in the pantry. That was a definite no-no. I heard my dad screaming downstairs, and I hid from him under my bed. That only made it worse. When he found me, he dragged me out. I ended up with a broken arm that time. It was the worst punishment I can ever remember getting,” she admitted.

“For getting into some candy?” he asked incredulously.

“I knew I shouldn’t have,” she said with a shrug.

“So you think it was your fault?” The words came out with acidity.

“I didn’t say it was my fault. I’m just saying that I did something I knew would have consequences.”

“How old were you?” Chloe still couldn’t look at him. There was too much anger in Nick’s voice, and that reminded her too much of her father. She was having a difficult time not flinching from him.

“I was eight, my brother was fifteen.”

“So at eight years old, you were expected to fall into line at all times?” he snapped.

“At two I was expected to fall into line. By the time I was eight, I was expected to act like an adult. I knew right from wrong. There was no gray line with my father,” she said with a sigh.

“How do you still have a relationship with the man?” His voice was incredulous. Of course he couldn’t understand. He had a loving family who would do anything for him. No one with the upbringing she’d gone through could comprehend what that was like.

“He’s my father,” she said simply.

Nick took the empty cup from her shaking fingers. She hadn’t even realized they were trembling. It didn’t really matter, though. She’d given him information he could turn around and use against her. Maybe she deserved that. She wasn’t sure anymore.

“I think I get it, Chloe,” he told her.

“Get what?” she asked.

He lifted her and set her on his lap as he rubbed her back and pulled her head against the warmth of his chest.

“I think I understand why you’re so afraid of opening up to someone.”

There was so much sincerity in his tone, she didn’t know what to do. She curled against him and accepted his comforting, for now, at least.

When Nick pulled the towel away and tucked her in beside him on the bed, she didn’t try to fight him. The weeks before this moment had drained her, and the nightmare had taken the rest of her energy away. Talking to Nick had been more difficult than she ever could have imagined.

When his fingers traced her flesh, she let her mind empty and focused on nothing but what he was doing to her. She needed that. She needed him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Nick and Chloe sat at a café overlooking the beautiful Puget Sound. The wind gently blew as she brushed some wandering strands of hair from her eyes. It had been a peaceful day―almost too peaceful. It made her wonder when the other shoe would drop. At the same time, she tried to tell herself that was a programmed way of thinking and she didn’t want to have these doubts.

Her job was going well, and she was enjoying her time with Nick. Did she think it would last forever? No. But it felt good for now, and that was important. Each new day began with how she wanted it to. She had to remember that, had to remember she didn’t have to be controlled―not if she didn’t allow it.