figured things out for myself. Even the Clancys, who have been my only comfort for years, did nothing more than give me the will to get up and keep going when things went sour. I don’t need this man, no matter what it might feel like to lean on him. It’s best that I remember that, because sure as death and taxes, he’ll leave when his duty to my father is complete, she thought.
Gathering herself, then, she turned to face him, as he stood in her wrecked apartment. She said, “Well, thank you so much for everything. I appreciate your help. What I really need is for you to help me handle my father’s affairs, so I can leave for his homestead.”
She watched his face, as she made her I-don’t-like-needing-you-for-anything speech. She noted the way his eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned. Okay, I’ve offended him. Tough. I’m not going to back down or pretend I want anything more to do with him than I do. I’m done being a charity case, or a poor thing needing the grown-ups’ help. The only reason I’m letting him handle my father’s arrangements is that he knows what my father wanted, and he knows how to get it done quickly. He is a means to an end. Nothing more.
So why, when he stalked over to me, ignoring the smashed vase, and the cushions scattered everywhere, did my nerves flutter and my cheeks warm? What the hell is that about? He is so much taller than I am. I should feel threatened, not... oh… damn… not turned on! What?
Faith backed away from him. She figured that a safe distance was best when dealing with a pissed off man, especially when the man towered over her. He stalked closer, invading her personal space, and said, “I’m not going anywhere, Faith. So, you’d best adjust your attitude. I made a promise I intend to keep.”
His rich, dark voice was quiet as the grave. She could hear the clock ticking on the wall by the kitchen door. Truth be told, she could hear her heart beating. Who the hell does he think he is, getting in my face like that? Does he think I’m scared of him?
She must have spoken aloud because he answered her. His voice was hard, and anger seemed to be an emotion he was made of, as he said, “I’m Jack Johnson, Grant Lee’s friend for twenty years. I don’t expect you to be scared of me, but I do expect you to show me you can do better than act like a scared teenager when her chain’s been yanked. I know you’re hurting, believe me. It’s no picnic for me, either, having to prepare my friend for his final resting place. I know you don’t know me and don’t trust me. That’s all well and good, but you don’t know the people you’re dealing with. I do. I will not allow anything to happen to you because you’re unhappy with the way things are. I didn’t have much of a choice about being assigned as your babysitter; so, you don’t get a choice about being protected. Capiche?”
He never once raised his voice. The fact that he had just told her off in a steady, low, cold-as-ice voice made heat rise inside her. She immediately thought, What the heck is wrong with me? Nobody talks to me like that and gets away with it! He isn’t my keeper! Babysitter, indeed! I’ll show him!
The anger blazed inside her, right alongside the overwhelming urge to pull his mouth down to hers and kiss him raw. The idea made her shake where she stood. To relieve her feelings, she hit him, hard. She hit him over and over in the chest, the arms, anywhere her fists landed. She didn’t even know she was crying again until he stopped her and pulled her back into the kitchen so he could wipe her tears with a paper towel.
Faith felt breathless. She was unraveling before a stranger. This was the second time in twenty-four hours that she was offloading tears and snot on a man she didn’t want to need. However, she never backed down from a
Gathering herself, then, she turned to face him, as he stood in her wrecked apartment. She said, “Well, thank you so much for everything. I appreciate your help. What I really need is for you to help me handle my father’s affairs, so I can leave for his homestead.”
She watched his face, as she made her I-don’t-like-needing-you-for-anything speech. She noted the way his eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned. Okay, I’ve offended him. Tough. I’m not going to back down or pretend I want anything more to do with him than I do. I’m done being a charity case, or a poor thing needing the grown-ups’ help. The only reason I’m letting him handle my father’s arrangements is that he knows what my father wanted, and he knows how to get it done quickly. He is a means to an end. Nothing more.
So why, when he stalked over to me, ignoring the smashed vase, and the cushions scattered everywhere, did my nerves flutter and my cheeks warm? What the hell is that about? He is so much taller than I am. I should feel threatened, not... oh… damn… not turned on! What?
Faith backed away from him. She figured that a safe distance was best when dealing with a pissed off man, especially when the man towered over her. He stalked closer, invading her personal space, and said, “I’m not going anywhere, Faith. So, you’d best adjust your attitude. I made a promise I intend to keep.”
His rich, dark voice was quiet as the grave. She could hear the clock ticking on the wall by the kitchen door. Truth be told, she could hear her heart beating. Who the hell does he think he is, getting in my face like that? Does he think I’m scared of him?
She must have spoken aloud because he answered her. His voice was hard, and anger seemed to be an emotion he was made of, as he said, “I’m Jack Johnson, Grant Lee’s friend for twenty years. I don’t expect you to be scared of me, but I do expect you to show me you can do better than act like a scared teenager when her chain’s been yanked. I know you’re hurting, believe me. It’s no picnic for me, either, having to prepare my friend for his final resting place. I know you don’t know me and don’t trust me. That’s all well and good, but you don’t know the people you’re dealing with. I do. I will not allow anything to happen to you because you’re unhappy with the way things are. I didn’t have much of a choice about being assigned as your babysitter; so, you don’t get a choice about being protected. Capiche?”
He never once raised his voice. The fact that he had just told her off in a steady, low, cold-as-ice voice made heat rise inside her. She immediately thought, What the heck is wrong with me? Nobody talks to me like that and gets away with it! He isn’t my keeper! Babysitter, indeed! I’ll show him!
The anger blazed inside her, right alongside the overwhelming urge to pull his mouth down to hers and kiss him raw. The idea made her shake where she stood. To relieve her feelings, she hit him, hard. She hit him over and over in the chest, the arms, anywhere her fists landed. She didn’t even know she was crying again until he stopped her and pulled her back into the kitchen so he could wipe her tears with a paper towel.
Faith felt breathless. She was unraveling before a stranger. This was the second time in twenty-four hours that she was offloading tears and snot on a man she didn’t want to need. However, she never backed down from a
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