There was no way I wasn’t stopping now.

Slowing down as I approached her, I noticed her eyes kept darting between me and the kids using the playground, and I wondered which one was her son.

“Reagan,” I said, and tried to catch my breath.

She didn’t respond, but I could hear a woman ask through her phone, “Who’s that?”

Reagan floundered for a second, and I almost told her my name, but I didn’t want to let on that I could hear her friend. “Um, uh, it’s Keegan’s friend from the army. The one from the coffee sh—­”

She hadn’t gotten the rest of the word out when the other voice said excitedly, “The hot Asian?”

I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing and had to turn away from her for a second when I saw her cheeks stain red.

“I, uh, I have to go.” She quickly tapped on her phone and shoved it in her back pocket before running her hands over her cheeks.

I wanted to tell her they were as red as she feared, but knew she was embarrassed enough.

“Uh . . . hi, Coen.”

“So you do know my name?” I asked, teasing her.

“Why are you here?”

I looked around, and back on the trail I’d come from. “This trail goes right past my backyard. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at work or something?”

Her eyes darted back to the playground, and she licked her lips like she was nervous. “My uh—­my office shuts down every first and third Friday of the month.”

“Sounds like an awesome job.”

“Perks of working for a local company, I guess.” Her eyes went back to the playground for a second. “I should probably go.”

Not looking away from her, I nodded my head in the direction of the play equipment. “Which one is your son?”

Reagan’s entire body froze, and the hand that had been brushing back her long hair stopped mid-­action. “Who told you I have a son?” her voice was now careful and defensive.

“Your brother. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Keegan,” she grumbled, but her body relaxed. “It’s fine, I just didn’t know you knew. I should have figured since you used to be roommates . . . I just—­I don’t—­”

“You don’t let a lot of ­people into your son’s life, I know. I don’t blame you.”

Her eyes had hardened at first, but widened with my last statement. “I don’t know whether to be pissed that you know all this about me, or curious as to why you don’t blame me.”

Grabbing the shirt from where it’d been hanging at my side, I ran it over my face and chest, and noticed her eyes followed the path. They lingered on the tattoos on my chest before slowly drifting over my arms. But her face gave nothing away; for all I knew, they could disgust her.

“In all fairness to your brother,” I started, and her eyes snapped back up to mine, “he didn’t tell me anything about you or your son until the day I got out. All I’d known was he was always going back home to be with the two of you. I finally asked him.”

“And what all did he tell you?” The defensive tone was back, and I fought a smile. Reagan was cute when she got all protective.

“Not much, but enough for me to admire you and your strength.”

From the way her head jerked slightly back and her eyelids blinked rapidly, she hadn’t been expecting that answer. After watching me for a few seconds, she crossed her arms over her chest, and leveled me with a glare. “Did Keegan set you up to this? Did he tell you I’d be here today? Because as I’m sure you heard last weekend, I’m not interested in . . . well, anything.”

“Look, I know you were burned, so you’re cautious now; but not everyone has a hidden agenda.”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life, and then I see you three times within a week? Keegan tried to get me to come out and have a beer with you. He admitted he was trying to set me up with you. Then out of nowhere, you’re right behind me in Starbucks, I see you two days later at lunch, and not even a week later you’re at the park that I spend a lot of Fridays at with Parker? Excuse me for not believing you.”

“Wow, really?” I laughed and rubbed at my jaw. “Okay, yeah, I get it. But I’d also been in the army for the last six years and had just gotten out when I ran into you. I have a studio not even five minutes from that Starbucks and have been going there for years. Your brother is one of my best friends, and he owed me lunch for losing a game, as I told you. I just woke up and decided to run on the same path I’ve been using every day since I moved into my place early this week, and this is where it led me. Granted, I hadn’t been this far yet, but I can assure you, Duchess, I didn’t come this far for you. I haven’t talked to Hudson in a ­couple days . . . and before your crazy mind starts coming up with other shit, I don’t know where the fuck you live.”

Her hazel eyes narrowed and she took a step closer. “Did I ask if you knew?”

“You sure as shit were getting there with all the other bullshit you’re accusing me of.”

“Do you realize you’re standing on a playground, surrounded by little kids, and you keep cussing?”

“Do you realize your holier-­than-­thou attitude to hide what you’re really thinking and feeling makes you look like a bitch?”

Her eyebrows shot up, and her mouth opened with a soft huff.

“I know you’re careful, I told you, I get it. But nothing during the times I’ve seen you has made you come across as someone who’s independent and wanting to keep her life private. With the shit you’re spouting off, swear to God I would think you’re the most vain person I’ve ever met if I didn’t know any better. The world doesn’t revolve around you, and ­people don’t make it their mission in life to make yours a living hell.”

“I never said they did,” she gritted out.

“Really? I complimented you, and you immediately took it as something your brother must have set up. Because, heaven forbid, someone compliments you, and actually means it.”

“After everything else you just said about me, do you really think I would trust any compliment from you?”

Closing the distance between us, I bent my head so I was whispering in her ear. “That’s exactly my point. I compliment you, and you think it’s bullshit. I tell you that this mask you’re wearing makes you come off as someone I’m sure you’re not, and say that if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re vain; and you automatically come to the conclusion that’s what I really think about you. You hear what you want to hear because it helps you keep up your guard.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Who’s cussing now?” Her hand came up to my bare chest, but instead of putting pressure against it, her fingers subtly curled against my skin. I moved so I could see her face, and had to bite back a smile when I noticed her eyes were zeroed in on her hand and my chest. Her breathing got heavier, and each breath brought us closer together again. “Drop the front, Reagan. The tough, uncaring act isn’t flattering. I don’t know you, but from the few glimpses I’ve seen when you’ve dropped your guard, and what I’ve heard, this isn’t you. You’re protecting yourself and you don’t trust guys—­understandably—­but we’re not all bad.”

“Coming from the guy who said I act like a bitch,” she said, and looked up at me. Her face would have been unreadable if it weren’t for her eyes, which were bright with amusement.

“I was proving a point, and you were acting like a bitch. Sorry if you don’t like honesty, but if you give me shit, be prepared to get it right back.”

“You’re a real charmer, you know that? And why do you say that like we’ll see each other again? After this lovely encounter, I’m pretty sure I’ll be avoiding you and your arrogant mouth at all costs.”

“There you go acting like you don’t care again. Don’t forget . . . I did hear your friend refer to me as ‘the hot Asian.’ ”

Her cheeks went red again, and just as she opened her mouth to respond, a small voice came from beside us.

“Mom . . . ?”

Reagan quickly pushed away from me, and we both turned to see two boys standing there. One with blond hair just like his mom’s.

“Hey, honey, what’s up?” Reagan asked, her voice shaky.

He looked over at me before looking back at his mom. “Who’s he?”

She had a lost look on her face when she glanced at me, and I just raised an eyebrow waiting for her response. “He’s uh . . . he’s Uncle Keegan’s friend. His name’s Coen.”

His chest puffed out as he crossed his arms and glared up at me. I had no doubt he’d perfected that look by watching his mom. “Are you being mean to my mom?”

I couldn’t help it, I barked out a laugh and bent down so I was eye level with him. “No way, bud. Because I’d be too scared of you coming to kick my butt if I were.”

“Oh God,” Reagan muttered, and I wondered if “butt” was a bad word for a kid his age.

He watched me for a few more seconds, like he was trying to figure out if he should still try to save his mom from me, before he relaxed his stance and pointed at the arm that was fully sleeved. “I like your arms. The stars are cool,” he said, and tapped one of three stars on my forearm.

“Yeah? Well maybe we’ll have to get you one.”

“Really?” he asked excitedly at the same time Reagan groaned. “Are you kidding?”

I stood and looked at her. “What? It would wash off after a few days.”

“Seriously, Coen?” She rolled her eyes at me and shook her head.

“Do yours wash off too?”

Looking back at the boys, I bent down again to talk to them. “No, but that’s ’cause I’m older.”

“How old until mine won’t wash off?”

“Never,” Reagan said at the same time I shrugged and said, “At least eighteen. So what, you have about two . . . three years left until then?”