"Crap, sweetheart," Pat's voice was tinged with regret, even as he cupped her face with both hands and began to dust kisses on all the available skin he could find, "I didn't mean to make you cry." Helen sniffled, bringing her hands up to wrap her fingers around his wrists. "I don't think I'll ever deserve you," she confessed, "but I do love you." And how could she not? Pat was more than she could have ever hoped for in a partner. Pat's movements stilled, and he left his lips hovering just over her own. "We'll have to work on the first part of that statement," he mumbled. "The second part, however . . . well, I'm glad, sweetheart. I love you too." And she knew he truly did. *** Helen is proud to be a journalist; she's prouder still to be the writer of her city's favorite advice column. She is not proud, however, of her troubled past, or the fact that she can't get in a car without having a panic attack. And then she meets Pat, who is both a trustworthy chauffeur and one of the sweetest men she's ever known. Between finding new love, healing old wounds, and worrying about a recent murder, how's an advice columnist to cope? *** The rest of this story can be read for free on my website: ardewler.com (no account needed, since making accounts is bleh)