“It’s not your fault.”

“I was driving. It was my car. If my brakes failed because I was supposed to do something with them, it’s totally my fault.”

He turned and leaned over the center console so she had to look at him or ignore him.

“How old is your car?”

“Four years. It was a lease return. I bought it used.”

That didn’t sound right to him. “So it was from a dealership?”

“Yes.”

“Were there any warning lights before today?”

“None.”

Matt shook his head and reached to take hold of her hand. “Then, hon . . . this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known something was going to fail. Be thankful that you weren’t going seventy. This could have ended much differently.”

She turned to him and her eyes began to swell.

He leaned over and hugged her the best he could across the console.

Erin woke the next morning feeling like an 18-wheeler had run over her . . . twice.

Matt had insisted she stay at his place, and she was too emotionally and physically exhausted to utter an argument. And even though she felt guilty for being high maintenance with him, she knew being alone would result in nothing but self-degradation and blame of herself. And that wasn’t healthy.

She rolled over and found the other half of the bed empty. Matt had held her the night before and let her cry. Now her eyes were swollen and her head pounded. She needed aspirin and caffeine.

Wearing one of Matt’s T-shirts, she padded barefoot through his house, following the scent of coffee.

In a pair of shorts and without a shirt, Matt stood in front of his sink with his back to her.

Erin must have made a noise because he turned and smiled. “Good morning, beautiful.”

She ran a hand through her hair, winced at the discomfort in her arm. “I look like something the cat dragged in.”

He crossed the room and placed both hands on her hips. “Are you saying I have bad taste?”

She curled into him, set her cheek on his chest.

“I’m saying you may be a little blind to reality right now.”

He chuckled.

“How about some coffee?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

“You sit. I’ll get it.”

Erin did as he asked and watched him move around his kitchen. The simple domestic chore of pouring her a cup of coffee and mixing it up the way she liked was an oddity.

He handed the cup to her and sat across the table. “Did you get any sleep?”

The java swished in the back of her throat, making her sigh. “Yes. More than I expected.”

“You tossed and turned quite a bit,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“You don’t manage decent sleep when you work, so you should get it when you’re at home.”

He reached out and toyed with her fingertips. “I slept ten times better with you here.”

“I doubt that.” The second sip of coffee was better than the first.

Matt rolled his eyes at her comment. “We have a lot to do today.”

“We do?”

He stood and moved to his refrigerator. “Phone calls to your insurance company. Getting the information on where your car is. We need the police report. Is it totaled, or can it be fixed? Then there’s the trip to the rental car place.” He stopped looking for whatever it was he was searching for to look at her. “Do you have rental coverage on your insurance?”

“I have no idea.”

“Regardless. You’ll need a car.” He removed eggs and milk. “You can use my truck . . .” He stopped again, looked at her. “Have you driven a big truck before?”

“No.”

“Probably better off with a car, then. Trucks take some getting used to, and having another fender bender now will probably scar you for life.”

He had put a lot of thought into this. “It sounds like a long and frustrating day. You sure you want to be a part of all that?”

He set everything on the counter, turned, and leaned against it. “Does all that stuff need to get done?”

“Yes.”

“Am I taking something away from you if I’m helping you do it?”

“No.”

He tilted his head. “Do you want my help?”

She paused.

Matt waited. “Listen. From what you’ve told me, you probably weren’t given a lot of choices as to when, where, and what your ex-asshole was involved in. I never . . . ever . . . want you to think I’m pushing my ideas of how your life should be. I woke up this morning with a to-do list that needs to be tackled, and I’d like to help. Since I’m not working today, I’m available. But if you don’t want me to, I get it.” He stopped his monologue long enough to take a breath. “Well, I don’t get it, but I’ll respect it and step aside and wait for you to ask for help.”

Erin sat there holding her coffee and staring at him. By now he’d crossed his arms over his bare chest, and he was staring right back at her with a perplexed look on his face.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“Taking the time to not only figure out everything I haven’t even considered after yesterday’s freeway debacle.”

He uncrossed his arms and rested them on the counter behind him. “You’re welcome.”

“And for going the extra mile to consider what I might be feeling on a personal level.”

He flashed his charming smile. “There’s no point in you opening up and telling me everything you did if I’m going to carry on as if you didn’t have the past you’ve lived through.”

“Really, Matt. You’re five steps ahead of me here. All I was thinking was a cup of coffee and a good morning kiss.”

He took one step away from the counter, placed both hands on the table in front of her, and pressed his lips to hers. “I forgot about the kiss,” he said, staring down at her.

“I may need two.”

He took his sweet time delivering her second request. “What’s the verdict?”

“We have a lot to do.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

There was more color in Erin’s face as they moved through the day. They’d gone to her place so she could get a change of clothes and call her insurance company. The car was in Glendale, but the station for California Highway Patrol was closer to them. They started with CHP, got stuck in a ton of their red tape, and left without a report.

By the time Matt laid eyes on Erin’s car, it was two in the afternoon.

It sat in the back of a collision repair center where it appeared to have been dropped the day before.

“Whoa.” Breath left Matt’s lungs like he’d been punched. He put an arm around Erin, thankful she’d walked away. The car had turned into an accordion.

“Is it possible it looks worse today?” Erin asked.

“You were preoccupied when it happened.” He ducked his head inside the open window and looked at the passenger space. The car had taken the impact in the front and the rear, but where the women had been sitting didn’t have collapsed metal inside. The safety mechanisms of the car had done their job.