His voice was too soft—too gentle and kind. She wanted him to chide or taunt or tease. Even one of Colin’s mumbled insults or backhanded jabs she could have handled, but Maggie no longer knew what to do with kindness. She didn’t trust it. She didn’t trust him. But the streetlights were blurry overhead, and when she closed her eyes, the tears spilled over. Her face was wet and her eyes were shut tight. She couldn’t see. Didn’t want to. And when the strongest arms she’d ever felt wrapped around her, she let them. When his big hand cupped the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair and
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