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Silence.
I assume it's the house across the street, which only comes alive at night. I swiftly lower my shades to prevent any visibility into the room. Climbing back under my blankets, I steady my breathing and wait for the morning.
ChapterEighteen
VINCENT
It’s been two days. Two whole days since she’s spoken to me or come over. It feels like a lifetime. How can such a short time of knowing someone turn into a slow death of missing them after just forty-eight hours?
Tom and Cash keep telling me to hang tight. I’ve got to let her come around on her own. If I go barging into her home, both literally and figuratively,again, I’ll only push her away. They’ve reminded me time and time again I’m an asshole and I’m lucky to have a woman even take a second look at me, let alone do the things Daisy lets me get away with.
But I can’t wait anymore. She’s had the weekend off and I’ve been here at the station needing to keep myself busy. What else was I going to do? Sit and sulk at home? I can do that here. But now it’s Sunday night and knowing I’m going to see her tomorrow and we haven’t talked is a killer. I don’t want the tension and I just know Cash or Tom will say some shit that will make me break.
And I don’t need to lose my shit here in front of the Officers of Christmas.
Determined to see her regardless of her anger, I quickly close out my reports, shut down my computer, and grab my keys. Pulling up out front of her house and seeing the new windows only gives me a slight reprieve.
I hate this block and I hate that she’s here. Alone.
Knocking on her front door, praying she lets me in, I glance around at the foundation. Nothing out of the ordinary. Her side gate is open, though. I quickly step over and latch it closed, then come back to wait at her door. Hearing her walk down the hall and flip the working locks has me feeling better. She opens it and I’m met with the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Every time I see her, she just gets better. This relaxed look, though? Hair up, shorts and a tank? It’s got to be one of my favorite looks, and I have to fight the urge to push her against the wall and take what’s mine.
As if reading my thoughts, she leans against the doorjamb, arms crossed, challenging me. “Hello, Chief Hunter.”
“Miss O’Malley.”
We have a standoff. She refuses to talk and is making me do the work. That’s fine. This is my show anyway.
“We need to talk.” She nods once and steps back, allowing me to pass. I keep walking into the living room, noting the freshly painted walls.
“It looks good in here. You’ve been working on it?”
“Yep. All weekend.”
Her clipped tone sets me on edge, but her eyes dance with mischief. She’s pushing buttons on purpose and that means one thing: I haven’t lost her.
We both sit on the couch, but at opposite ends.
Taking a breath, I start. “There are things you don’t know about, Daisy and-”
“That’s what you’re leading with? No ‘I miss you’? No ‘I was wrong’? No apology?” She’s staring intently at me, and all I can do is watch her lips move. She clears her throat and pulls me back to the present.
“I told you I’m new at this.” She watches me expectantly. “Daisy, I’m sorry-”
“What are you sorry for, Vince?”
I let out a little laugh at the audacity of this woman. “Keep interrupting and you’re going to be the one who’s sorry.”
Her lips twist, and she pulls her knees up in front of her. My eyes drift up and down her legs, focusing on her thighs that I’ve missed having wrapped around my head for the last two days.
“I won’t apologize for the windows. Especially after Billy told me the old ones had been tampered with.” Her eyes widen slightly. “And I’m not saying that to scare you, or maybe I am, but my point is that you need to know what I did was out of concern for you. And after he told me that? I’m glad I did.”
Taking a breath, I decide I’ve got to go all in. I’ve got to let her know a bit of my history and why I do the things I do. “When I was fourteen, I lost my sister. She was walking home from school and was hit by a car. Violet was in her senior year of high school and was my best friend. She never looked at me like I was the annoying little brother, probably because I stood taller than her before she even entered high school. She let me hang out with her friends and never chased me out of her room.”
“It wasn’t uncommon for her to be walking. None of her friends had cars and our parents only had one. Mom was a stay at home mom and Dad took her anywhere she needed to go.”
She watches me as I continue to talk. “I was working every odd job I could find. My plan was to buy her a car for graduation. Or at least give her every bit of money I had saved so she could add to it and get what she wanted. She wasn’t going to go away to college, but she would need a car to get back and forth to the community school on the other side of town. She said she was fine to take the bus, but my dad didn’t like that idea. I didn’t either, if I’m being honest. It’s what drove me to work for every dime I could.”
Daisy is quiet, watching me with eyes that show concern and sympathy. It doesn’t feel like pity, though, which is usually the case when people find out. That’s why I don’t talk about it.
