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Especially when her imagination did not do him one bit of justice.
The man was…
“Rave.”
She blinked, tore her gaze from the powerful muscles of his thighs. “Talk about what?” she asked, affecting innocent, pretending like there were tears still drying on her lashes and her cheeks weren’t still wet.
“The fact that your mother was on the phone apparently asking you for money.”
Yup.
Hehadheard.
More than she wanted, more than she wantedanyoneto hear, but, most especially, more than she wanted Connor to hear.
“Why don’t we talk about your disappearing clothes instead?”
He froze and, unbidden, her gaze shot up to his, just in time to see heat flaring through his eyes. To see heat that called to a burning, desperate need deep inside her, a well of yearning and desire she’d buried from day one, frommeetingone.
Because he worked with her.
Because he was good.
Because she could never,everallow someone like her to dream of being with someone like him. Not again.
His mouth tipped up and he grinned at her. “I’m good at disappearing clothes, baby.”
Her belly went molten.
She inhaled.
He leaned closer, and seriously, he smelledgood.The man had to be dead on his feet after his shift, but he was sitting there next to her looking awake and focused (and in his underwear with no little expanse of golden skin and taut muscles on display). Also seriously, how had the man spent the last twelve hours working and still smelledgood? Smelled freaking lickable and spicy, so much so she wanted to bury her nose in his throat and inhale deeply.
To fuse it into her cells.
To commit it to memory.
But…danger,danger. Alarm bells were ringing, and as they often did when she was feeling insecure, feeling vulnerable and like the people around her saw too much, she lashed out.
Lashed out so she could retreat behind her steel barriers.
“Yeah, I know you are. You’re good at helping people change. Same as you’re good at changing bedpans and putting on Band-Aids.”
He’d leaned in, his eyes soft, voice silken, but her words changed all that.
His gorgeous hazel eyes went flat, and he straightened, taking away the silky voice, the soft gaze. “Right,” he said with a shake of his head. “So why don’t we get on with changing out those bandages?” A cold question.
One she hated with every fiber of her being.
Stupid.
Stupid.
“I’m—”
A blip of something in that gaze. Curiosity? A sliver of heat?
Her lungs inflated so quickly she nearly choked, and clutching her stomach muscles tightly to prevent it sent a cascade of pain through her body.
