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wasn’t good enough to father her children.
    “It’s not something I came up with on a whim. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”
    He swiveled and pinned her with a hard glare. “You’ve been sharing my bed, all the while knowing you would be leaving me soon? You knew last night? We made love, Lucy! Three damn times!”
    She stood then, her back stiff with anger. “Like I said, I’ve tried to talk to you about this several times, but you always change the subject. Don’t lie. You know you do. And while we’re at it, can you honestly stand there and tell me you love me? That you would want to marry me and have babies with me?” He took two steps toward her and pointed a finger at her. “You aren’t exactly over the hill, Lucy. There’s still plenty of time to consider marriage and kids.” He paused as a painful thought hit him. “Maybe the real problem here is that you’ve already decided I wasn’t good enough for the long haul. A street punk. Is that all I am to you?”
    She blanched. “Of course not. I love you. I always have.” He closed the distance between them and caught her arms before she could turn away. “Have you found someone else? Is it that asshole I heard on the phone?”
    Lucy pushed at his chest, but he refused to budge. “It’s not like that. There is no one else!”
    “So for four years I was a good enough to fuck, but now it’s time to move on.”
    He knew the instant he’d pushed too far. She clenched her fists at her sides and angry sparks flew from her gorgeous brown eyes.
    “Do not put words in my mouth. You’re the one dodging discus-sions of the future, not me. You’re the one who can’t get over the past, not me. You’re the one who can’t admit you love me, not me.
    You’re the one who swore never to have kids for fear you’d be just like your father. Not me!”
    He released her and stumbled backwards. Every single word she’d thrown at him was right on the mark. She was leaving him, and he’d pushed her to it. He had no one to blame but himself.
    He’d kept her at arm’s length for four years. No self-respecting woman could put up with that type of treatment forever.
    “Rand?”
    Her pleading voice was too much. He shook his head and headed for the door. He needed time to think, to figure out how to fix the mess he’d made. To figure out how to keep the woman he loved from walking away and leaving him a shell of a man.
    “Rand, please talk to me,” she said as he slung the door wide.
    “I need a few minutes, Lucy.” If she said anything else, he didn’t hear it. All he heard was his own inner voice lecturing him on his idiocy. Rand closed the door behind him and started down the hall.
    He wasn’t watching where he was going and smacked head-on into someone.
    “Hey, Trey. Sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention,” he mumbled.
    Trey quirked a brow. “I gathered. Something wrong?” Wrong? His entire life was going down the goddamn toilet!
    “Yeah, you could say that.”
    “Come on.” Trey smacked him on the back. “I’ve got a few beers in the fridge.”
    Rand wasn’t the sharing type, but Trey had already moved around him and started down the hall. He shrugged. What the hell?
    Maybe if he got drunk enough he wouldn’t have to think about Lucy marrying some dickwad and living in the fucking ’burbs.
    Rand walked into Trey’s living room and shook his head at the peculiar furnishings. He had a hodgepodge of stuff and nothing seemed to match, yet it all looked damned expensive. Antiques from around the world filled the room. An old roll top desk from the early 1900s. A rosewood bookcase that had such intricate carvings Rand thought it had come straight from China. A pair of mahogany end tables and an oak-and-glass corner cabinet that was filled with nothing but crystal. He’d bet his last dollar it wasn’t the cheap shit either. He’d known for a while that Trey counseled couples in trouble, but now he wondered if Trey was