She gasped as he took her hand and nearly dragged her down the sidewalk, Vinny and Giuseppe calling their farewells. They had already turned onto Willow when Rose dug in her heels and pulled her hand from his.
“What do you think you’re doing, Ben?” The soft light of dusk softened her harsh expression, though her green eyes flared.
Lord, whatwashe doing? “The Vacarro brothers are thugs. They’re dangerous—”
“They were lovely!” She planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, their language was a bit crude, but they were perfectly pleasant to me from the start.”
“The Vacarro brothers cause nothing but trouble, and you—”
“You’re judging them too harshly. Did you expect me to dismiss them outright because you don’t like them?”
Ben raked his fingers through his hair. “No, but—”
“We were chatting, and Vicenzo suggested I come have tea with him—”
“Christ, no!” Ben howled. “You have no idea what you’re doing here, and you could get hurt!”
She stepped closer, her boots touching the tips of his shoes. “You have no right, nor need, to protect me.”
His fingers curled with the need to pull her close, to feel her heartbeat against his chest and know she was well. “That’s shit, Rose. You don’t know this neighborhood, and you can’t handle—”
Rose threw her arms up and pushed past him. “If that’s what you think of me, fine, I’ll leave. I’ll get out of your precious building and boring, controlled life.”
The frustration boiling in his belly turned into disgust with himself. Is that how he made her feel, unwelcome, unwanted? And did she truly believe that of him, that all he cared about was his building and keeping control?
Had he done anything since she arrived to show her otherwise?
His feet started moving before he could change his mind. “Rose,” he shouted, “wait!”
Unshed tears burned as Rose stomped back towards 138 Willow, the setting sun having cast the street into ominous shadows. Ben was right; she didn’t belong here, and was only embarrassing herself by pretending she did. She could be surrounded by people, but it seemed she would always be the one left behind or pushed aside.
“Rose,” Ben called again, but she ignored him, wincing as pain shot through her heel. The boots she’d been wearing non-stop for a week had irritated her skin, unaccustomed as it was to so much walking, and the flesh had blistered and torn.
She slowed down to favor her leg, and Ben caught up to her easily.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” He placed his hand under her elbow to steady her, but she pulled it away.
“I’m fine,” she shot back. “But I don’t understand you. Whenever I’m around you, you seem irritated by my presence, but the moment I’m gone, you chase me down just to harangue me.” She threw her hands out wide. “What do you want from me?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes darkened, and she wondered if it was a trick of the light.
But no, she recognized this look, although she had never understood it until she met Ben. Did he desireher?
Ben stepped forward, his lips parted, and when he spoke, his words barely spanned the distance between them. “I don’t know.”
She’d drifted closer to him somehow, as if their contact was inevitable, and she had crossed an ocean just to be standing here, now, with this man. “I think you do.”
His head tilted down towards hers, and she lifted her lips, her breath escaping in fast puffs—
“Mister North, would you believe the Vacarros just backed down like that?” The boy she had seen tagging along came sprinting down the sidewalk, and Ben jumped back from her as though he’d been shocked. “My ma couldn’t believe it neither, and I had to go tell her, and—”
“Go home, Billy.” Ben’s eyes were still fixed on Rose, and her entire body heated under his gaze.
“Ma wondered if you wanted to come over for dinner, since you got me a new glove and all—”
“Go. Home.”
Billy hesitated, his eyes darting between the pair. “You said I weren’t s’posed to walk alone after dark.”
