He held up his hand. “Shoot to kill, Alyssa. I’m not kidding.”
He wasn’t. She could see it in his eyes. And wasn’t that a total buzzkill.
“Promise me.”
She shook her head.
“Promise or I won’t stick around. I won’t be here to help out tomorrow with Vic. Or go see the Griz. Promise or I’ll start walking back to the UP right now.”
“You won’t get two blocks without being jumped.”
He arched a brow. “Then my problem is solved.”
He couldn’t possibly be that suicidal. Didn’t animals have a self-preservation thing? But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She wasn’t talking to his animal side right then. He was all thinking human and his mind was made up. If she didn’t promise to shoot him, then he’d leave just to ensure her safety.
She groaned. “You’re a bigger pain in the ass than my brother. And that’s saying something.”
He grunted in a kind of acknowledgment. And when she didn’t say anything more, he repeated his demand.
“Promise or—”
“I promise. I’ll shoot your furry ass if you dare go grizzly in my apartment. Do you know how long it took me to decorate this place?” She added a glare of fury just for good measure.
“It’s beautifully decorated,” he said. “Every pink ruffle and bow is sacred. I’d kill myself if I ever hurt a single one.”
He was teasing her. Her apartment wasnotdecorated in pink bows or ruffles. Though there might be a rose undertone to the paint and a few white accents in the furniture. But there weren’t any bows and he damn well knew it.
She collapsed backward on her pillow. “My place bought with my money where I live alone. Be grateful you’re not sleeping on pink unicorn pillows with sparkly bling accents.”
He didn’t answer. In fact, he was silent so long that she lifted her head to look. He was right where he’d been a moment before, standing near her doorway, but this time with a soft smile on his face.
“What?” she demanded.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Alyssa. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning. I promise.”
No mockery in his words. In fact, the genuine warmth had her tearing up again. When had she ever had someone help her in this nightmare of a life? Someone who wasn’t her employee or her flaky-as-shit brother?
“Go to sleep, Simon,” she said. She didn’t trust her voice to say anything else. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to burst into tears again.
“Good night, Alyssa.” He backed out of her room, shutting the bedroom door firmly behind him. Then she heard him in her living room, presumably settling in on her couch. And she heard a grumble. A very loud one that included a snort.
She was pushing out of bed when she heard him speak, his voice carrying into her bedroom.
“Just make sure I’m really furry when you shoot me and it’s not this synthetic disaster of a blanket!”
She had to think a moment, then she stifled her laugh. Her only blanket had been a gift from her brother before he’d gone on his first deployment. It was a fake fur monstrosity that collected static like a miswired charger and using it felt like being buried under a thick carpet. But it was warm, and her brother had given it to her, so it was the blanket that sat on the couch for every winter in Michigan.
And now it would be wrapped around Simon.
“Don’t worry,” she called back. “Your real fur is way thinner and patchy, too. I’ll be able to tell the difference.” Then she laughed, loud and long at his outraged grunt of a response.
