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“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bailey glared at him.
“My brothers have that on the back of their business cards.”
“Very amusing.”
“For the record, I didn’t think you were the type I’d sleep with and run from, Bailey.”
“I never—”
“You did, and while I want you, Bailey, I sure as hell don’t want you if that’s the opinion you have of me. Especially considering our history, and how much I owe you. And, again, for the record, I don’t have my life completely together.”
Frustrated, Bailey walked away from him and did another circuit of the room. It was what she usually did when her emotions threatened to get the better of her.
“What are you doing?”
“Calming down?”
“Why? I’m angry, why the hell can’t you be?”
She circled back to stand before him again.
“I like to be in control of my emotions.”
“Emotions are real, Bailey, suppressing them is not. I’d rather see you yell and scream, like you used to, than try and control them.”
His green eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. Bailey dug her toes into her shoes to stop retreating.
“I-I don’t do that. Couldn’t do that.”
He stopped before her, close enough that she could see his chest rise and fall with each breath.
“Who told you not to do that?”
She looked away from his all-seeing eyes. “I need to go.”
“Stop running, dammit!”
“You have no right to demand anything of me, Joe Trainer. Now step aside.” Bailey lifted her chin, but he simply crowded her space.
“Cutting loose now and again is good for you. Laughing like you mean it, or yelling when you’re angry, is showing honest emotion and part of who we are. It’s what makes us different.”
“I don’t want to be different, and I definitely don’t want to cut loose, whatever the fuck that means.” Horrified, Bailey realized what she’d said. She never used that word. “I-I’m sorry—”
“If you try and apologize for saying fuck, I’ll shake you,” Joe said.
Bailey pushed at his chest as he moved closer, so close she could feel his heat again, and inhale his wonderful scent.
“I’m not even sure why we are having this conversation,” Bailey said. “I told myself we could be friends, or at least acquaintances, but we can’t. There’s too much between us.”
“Yes, we have a history, but a good, warm history. What this is, between us, takes that to another level.”
“No, it doesn’t!” Bailey could feel the temper she usually controlled flare to life.
“Did you just shriek, Ms. Jones?”
“No!”
“Sure as hell sounded like it.” He looked amused.
