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He added lettuce to the sandwiches so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at her. “Because I like you.”
She snorted. “Why?”
“It’s beyond me.”
“Nice.”
“Nicer than you are to me.”
“You sound like you’re six.”
He smiled in spite of himself. She was right.
“Let’s get something straight,” she added.
“What’s that?” He sliced a tomato.
“I’m a Christian now. I know it doesn’t look like it. But I’m trying. I need to be around other Christians. And I’m not doing the stuff I did before. Saturday night, I fell down, but I’m picking myself up. You may have heard stuff about me and men, but that’s all in the past. In case, you have some ulterior motives or plans—”
Anger dovetailed into a crazy, hurt feeling. He dropped the knife on the cutting board. “I really should go. This was a mistake.” He headed for a door again. Stupid. He was too stupid to understand women. Especially this one.
“Alex. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
He didn’t answer. He reached for the doorknob. The palm of her hand slapped against the door, keeping him from opening it. “Don’t go.”
He whirled and grabbed her shoulders, looking into her startled blue eyes. “Who told you I was the bad guy?”
Her face blanched white. She struggled from his grip. “Get your hands off me.” Her voice quivered with fear.
“Hey, hey.” Alex dropped his hands and backed away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Deborah.”
She stumbled back, her hands rubbing her shoulders.
“I would never hurt you. I promise. Never.”
She nodded, but kept backing away until she was up against the far living room wall. She slid down on her haunches and put her hands over her face.
“Deborah?” Confused, Alex crept closer and knelt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You make me nuts because I—I guess I have a crush on you.”
A hysterical sounding giggle escaped from behind the hands covering her face, but she still didn’t speak.
“You think that’s funny?” He peeled a hand from her face. She flinched.
“Deborah, who hurt you?”
Her gaze didn’t connect with his. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Obviously, it does.”
“Only if we were . . . if we were dating or something like that.”
He swiveled around on his heels and leaned against the wall, careful not to touch her. “Even if we just become friends, it’d be important to know.”
“We can be friends.”
“Yeah? As long as I don’t touch you?”
“Yes.”
