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I looked back to Denver and sucked in a breath. His plate and fork were gone. His hands were braced on the counter behind him by his hips, his arm muscles flexing under tan skin. He was staring at me.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said softly.
“Just eggs and some bread,” he returned, still staring at me.
Panic set in. I was inhishouse, underhisroof, he mademefood and gavemea place to sleep—and I tried to tellhis sonwhat to do.
Valerie, you are an idiot.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “Caleb is a growing boy, and he can eat as fast as he wants.”
“You’re apologizing for being kind and looking out for my boy?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
“I—well, yes.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Do you have WiFi?”
He nodded once.
“Would you mind giving me the password? I have to book a flight back home.”
“Where’s home?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“Just outside of Dallas,” I answered.
“Thought I heard an accent,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to my mouth.
I did not want to be sitting in a house alone with a murderer. I didnotneed to have said murderer looking at my lips like that. I also didn’t need to like it as much as I did.
“So, can I have a password?” I asked, my voice breathy.
“Why are you leaving?”
The question threw me.Had he not been present for the last twelve hours?
“I got fired yesterday,” I returned.
He nodded as if that answer wasn’t enough.
“I got assual—”
“Do not remind me of that pathetic waste of breath,” he growled, “touching you.”
I nodded.
“It’s done. He’s gone. He ain’t ever going to touch you or anyone else again, you hear me?” Not only was he still growling, but now he was moving. Towards me. He stopped on the other side of the island and braced his hands on the butcher block.
Why couldn’t he put the flannel and hat back on?
Why did he have to look so good all the time?
“Valerie.”
“You know my name,” I blurted.What in the hell was wrong with me?
He nodded and tipped his head to his son’s stool. “Found out what it was about twenty minutes ago.”
