Page 28 of Donovan's Men

“No.” I might’ve squeaked that.

“I did.”

Somehow that didn’t surprise me.

“Several times, in fact. And I really cared about the women, but it just didn’t do it for me. And in that respect, Cole’s the opposite of me. He loves women—their bodies, their souls, their smell, their soft skin…”

“Okay.” I said the word tentatively. “Men can have soft skin as well.” Why I was bringing up this point, I had no idea.

“Oh yeah, I like that. I love guys with smooth skin. You’re one of them, eh? I bet you moisturize and wear sunscreen in the summer.”

“Uh, that’s possible—”

“I bet Tyson’s got rougher skin. Maybe even calluses. Well, he doesn’t do manual labor, so maybe not. But he’s tougher than you.” He drew in a breath. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being soft—I love soft guys. Just not guys who remind me of women. I’m all about the hard edges.”

Do I have hard edges?

Wrong thought.

I wandered over to the kitchen and poured my tea down the drain. “How can I help, Donovan?”

He cleared his throat. “I need to know everything’s going to be okay. That everyone’s going to be okay. That this’ll pass and things will go back to the way they were.”

Sighing softly, I sat at the kitchen table. “You know I can’t do that. You’re changed. Cole, Julie, and Elouise have changed. And change isn’t always bad. Yes, the catalyst for the change was something negative, but you can see this as a chance to grow and progress.”

“I was pretty perfect.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure you were. But there’s always room for improvement, right? Maybe you’ll be more empathetic. Or considerate. Or you’ll see things differently—”

“Like my life flashing before my eyes and having regrets?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t have put it like that, but facing regrets can be helpful—”

“They’re in the past, Doc. Nothing to be done about them now.”

“But we can—”

“Good night.”

He disconnected the call.

Well, okay, then.

I had no idea what he meant by any of it. Most people had regrets—that was part of being human. Things we wished we’d done differently. Things said or not said. Paths chosen or not chosen. Living with and accepting those regrets often formed the basis for genuine healing. Many of the people I counseled had survivor’s guilt—they’d survived whatever horrible incident occurred and one or more of their colleagues hadn’t.

Cole Hamilton had lived. I’d hoped that would be of some comfort to Donovan, but it appeared to make little difference. Donovan blamed himself for not acting sooner—a common feeling.

My job was to help him work through those feelings.

While not falling for the guy.

Yeah. Simple. Piece of cake.

So, so, so not.

Chapter Six

Donovan