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He stood, too. “Wait. I’m sorry I’m not saying much. I can’t figure out what words are right. Sorry doesn’t seem right, but it’s all I’ve got.” There was no chance in hell he’d tell her he was thinking about how his mommy didn’t wuv him. “I want to help, Siena. You need the help, and I want to help, so take the help.”
She’d been reaching for the doorknob; now she let her hand fall. “Because you’re a better man than I thought?”
Yes. But right now, it seemed wrong to say anything about what kind of man he was. No part of this discussion had been about him.
He’d initially tried to broker a truce with her because he needed not to be enemies. He couldn’t have his next-door neighbor looking for ways to fuck him up. Then he’d offered to help because he’d seen her need and had reacted to that—and yes, it had also occurred to him that putting some red in her ledger would help with the not-fucking-him-up thing. Of course it had occurred to him. Charm patrol was a tried and true Bulls method of clearing room for their work.
But it was so much more than that now. In his chest, Sir Galahad was mounted on his steed, brandishing his sword, looking for dragons to slay. He simply wanted to help her. Full stop. So he said nothing at all, only looked into her eyes and hoped she’d see who he was.
“I just wanted ...” Her sentence faded away, and she was quiet for several heavy seconds before she took a breath and let her gaze fall to the floor between their feet. “If you’re offering out of some idea to make a move, I wanted you to know that I’m not much of a woman anymore, so there’s no point. Save the effort.”
Pure instinct drove him forward. He went to her and picked up her hand. It twitched in his palm, but she didn’t snatch it away.
“You’re all woman, Siena. A pound or two of meat doesn’t have shit to do with who you are.”
A quiet scoff left her on a breath, but she didn’t pull away. “I don’t believe that you believe that.”
He kind of didn’t quite believe it, either. It was true; he hadn’t lied, wasn’t trying to shine her on. But it surprised him how sincerely he meant it—and how muchmoreattracted to her he now was. He’d thought she was hot upon first meeting her, but her personality—her suspicion, her near-constant anger, her consequent tendency to Karen-ish behavior—had cooled his attraction substantially.
In the past day, however, he’d gained some fresh insights and a new perspective on this woman. She was combative because she was exhausted. She was suspicious because she was afraid. She was angry, but who wouldn’t be, getting dealt a hand like hers? None of it, none of her anger, none of her fight, was for herself. She was living entirely for her sister, trying to protect her from a harsh world, and even from their own biology. She was fighting an impossible battle and doing it alone.
There was an actual lump in his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so emotional.
“It’s true,” he said and found himself taking her other hand and leaning toward her. Did he mean to kiss her?
It didn’t matter. She put her hand on his chest and pushed. “What are you doing?”
Cooper drew back, shocked at himself. “Sorry.”
Her expression had been soft, wary but open, for most of their talk. Now her face turned to stone and her eyes to ice. “I am not a pity fuck, asshole.”
“That’s not what I was ... It’s not what I think.”
“I don’t care what you think. I don’t want anything you have to give. I’m a total fucking idiot for even being here. Just forget it. Forget it all.”
She grabbed the knob and tried to yank the door open, but Cooper put his hand on it and held it in place. When she looked up at him again, murder was written across her face in giant, spiky letters. She probably had a gun in her bag; thankfully, in her emotional rush to get to the door she’d left the bag beside the recliner.
“Let. Me. Out.”
“You need to let somebodyin, Siena. Let somebody help you.”
“I’m doing fine on my own, thank you. Let me out.”
“Are you? Really?”
He could see that she wanted to throw words back at him, wanted to fight with him and assert her strength, but she faltered and could only look up at him. Under the ice of her eyes, he saw turmoil.
“I’m here, offering, right next door. Right beside you. Let me help you.”
“Why?”
That was a great question. Cooper didn’t think he was an asshole, actually, but he’d never tried this hard in hislifeto connect with another person. He hadn’t known he was capable of trying this hard.
He didn’t know what it was about her that was hooking him so deeply. Or maybe it was something about him? The move and the new charter, and his new flash, it all had him a snarled mess of internal conflict; was it that making him reach out? Whatwasit?
“Because I’m a better person than you think,” he said to Siena and hoped it was true. It was the only answer he’d been able to give any time she’d asked.
Her gaze narrowed and she peered into his eyes. “Are you?”
