Bare It All Page 11

“I’m sorry, no.”

Abruptly, he sat back. “Stop apologizing, damn it!”

She smiled at his show of temper. “Honestly, Reese, I didn’t expect to ever tell anyone any of it. I don’t like to think about it. I definitely don’t want to talk about it.” Mired in confusion and conflicts, she reached a hand down to Cash and put her fingers in his fur. Contact with the dog always brought her composure. And oddly enough, exposure to Reese brought her that and other elusive emotions. Ones she’d feared she’d never again feel. That had to mean something, but what? Finding the right words wasn’t easy. “The thing is, I like you, when for the longest time I didn’t like anyone or anything, not even myself.”

Reese held himself still and silent.

“I’d gotten used to feeling...” She didn’t want to sound dramatic, but only one word would do. “Ugly.” Inside and out.

With stark conviction, he stated, “You’re not.”

He was the type of nice guy that would do his best to reassure her, only she didn’t need that from him. “Then I decided I was just plain.”

Folding his brawny arms on the tabletop, he leaned closer again. “Far from it.”

Her breath came faster, deeper. “The way you look at me, I know you must not think so.”

“Tell me why you think it.”

No, she couldn’t go there. For many, many reasons, not all of them her own, elaborating was impossible. “I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Both, I guess.” Shoring up her courage, she met his piercing green eyes and saw the sympathy there. But she knew she didn’t deserve sympathy. She didn’t really deserve anything.

Not after what she’d done, what she’d let happen.

How cowardly she’d been. But not  anymore.

She’d been given a second chance, and by God, she would grab it with both hands.

Reese had mentioned love. Love him, love his dog.

Easy enough, since she’d lost her heart to Cash the second she’d met him. That Reese came with the dog, or vice versa...well, that could be a wonderful bonus.

Her throat tightened. She’d come to accept that love was well out of reach. She hadn’t been worthy of love.

Then.

But now?

She desperately wanted to explore the expanding emotions he inspired. Did she dare?

She would never again be a coward.

Clearing the constricting uncertainty from her throat, she forced herself to meet his gaze. He watched her so closely that she felt it right down to her heart. “When can you move back to your apartment?”

The seconds ticked by. “In a hurry to get rid of me?”

“Not at all.” Alice admitted the truth. “I’m hoping you still need a place to stay. That is, I hope you’ll want to stay here again.” And just in case he wasn’t getting it, she added, “With me.”

He dropped back in his seat, his eyes closed, his expression frustrated. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

When she’d so generously been offered a new lease on life, she’d vowed to be clear and concise in all things. She wanted Reese. For how much, she didn’t yet know, but she wanted to find out. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

He half laughed and opened his eyes to watch her again.

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to...do anything.” That sounded terrible. “I mean, you’re welcome to sleep here. On the couch.” Worse and worse, Alice. She screwed up her flagging courage and put on a serious face. “I wasn’t hitting on you, as Pam and Nikki do.”

“I can tell the difference.”

Of course he could. She felt like a fool.

Reese smiled at her. “I would have asked, you know.”

Tension eased from her shoulders. “You want to stay?”

“For several reasons. First and foremost, after the excitement last night, you shouldn’t be alone. Yes, you’re coping well. And now that I know a hint of your past, I suppose being well-armed makes...sense.”

Was he trying not to insult her? “You think I’m overdoing it.”

“I think you’re doing what you need to in order to feel safer.”

Safer, but not safe. Reese understood the difference. Now that she knew how easy it was to become the victim, never again would she feel entirely safe. “Yes.”

He toyed with his empty glass, turning it on the table. “I can only imagine how you were affected by the shooting and the death—”

She lifted her chin. “I would have helped.”

“You did help. You sent Logan in with full knowledge of what was happening. Without you, he might have ended up in the same boat as the lieutenant and me.”

She still didn’t know everything that had happened, how or why. “Handcuffed to a bed?”

“Or dead.” Reese pushed back from his chair and carried his empty plate to the sink.

Were all men so comfortable in a kitchen? So tidy?

Not that she could remember. Her dad was wonderful, but he’d left household chores to her mother.

The few relationships she’d had never went beyond casual dating, so she had no idea how those men had been in a kitchen.

As if merely curious, Reese asked, “You would have used that gun yesterday?”

“If necessary.” That was one thing she’d proven to herself. She  could pull the trigger. “I gave my other gun to your friend, since he’d left his with his brother—”