“What the hell is going on, Lacie? Corinne commandeers your phone last night and refuses to let me talk to you. You don’t answer your door.” His eyes landed on her pink cast. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a cast,” she said, though she thought that would have been obvious. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly uncomfortable with the way Craig was looking at her. His eyes narrowed, his mouth set in a scowl, and if she looked really closely, she could see the tiny vein pulsing at his temple. She licked her lips self-consciously. Did her lips look as swollen and ravished as they felt?
“I know that,” he said, irritated. “Why is it on your hand?”
She shrugged, knowing he would not be satisfied until she told him. Best to just get it over with. “I had it x-rayed. Turns out I really did break it last week, and the bones were not fusing properly, so they had to re-break it and then cast it.” She blew out a breath. “They shot me up with some powerful pain killers, and I went to bed the moment we got home. Corinne was just looking out for me, Craig.”
He looked around, his eyes zeroing on the two coffee mugs sitting on the counter. Then on the waffle iron, the bowl of batter, and the two place settings. Crap, thought Lacie. She was a grown woman, but Craig was making her feel as though she was a naughty teenager caught in a compromising position. She straightened her shoulders and met his icy glare.
“Where is Corinne now?” he asked.
“She left.”
“When?”
“Why the interrogation, Craig?” she huffed. “Does it really matter?” Lacie turned and started to head back toward the kitchen, already tired of the conversation and wishing she had never agreed to give Craig a key to her place. She looked longingly at the counter where Shane had been so wonderfully attentive only minutes earlier.
“Hell yes, it matters,” Craig said, his voice angry, stalking after her. “Her car wasn’t in the lot this morning when I took Shelly back.” He pointed at the mugs, the plates, the forks accusingly. “Who made you breakfast, Lacie?”
“I did.”
Shane stepped from the back room. So much for his ability to let her handle things. She tried to be annoyed with him, but the truth was, his presence did make her feel better.
Craig’s eyes were murderous as he took in Shane’s appearance. Shane’s shirt still hung open, his hair was still tussled from her fingers raking through it, his jaw still shadowed. But his eyes were as bright as Lacie had ever seen them. Bright and yet so very dark. She suddenly knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the rumors of the Callaghans were true. For all of his gentlemanly charm and easy-going manner, Shane was a lethal man.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” The purplish tinge of rage raced up Craig’s neck and into his face, his fists clenched at his sides.
Shane strode through the apartment with the supreme confidence of a man who was exactly where he belonged, deliberately placing himself between her and Craig. His movements were unhurried, almost lazily careless, but there was nothing remotely casual about the look in his eyes.
Realizing she would have to face this now rather than later, Lacie stood a little straighter, her chin taking a slightly defiant tilt. “Corinne called him when she had to leave.”
Craig whipped his gaze back to her. “Why didn’t she call me? I could have taken care of you, Lacie. You didn’t need to call on a complete stranger.” He glanced at Shane as if he was some bum she picked up off the street.
It was Lacie’s first instinct to simply state the truth, but she couldn’t exactly tell him Corinne was, in her words, ‘totally creeped out’ by him. Instead she kept to the truth in as non-confrontational a way as possible. “Shane is not a complete stranger. And you had Shelly. Seeing me like that would have upset her.”
“I would have taken her back to her grandparents,” Craig said through clenched teeth, his voice strained in barely-repressed anger. “They would have understood. Christ, Lacie, I’ve known you your whole life. You’ve known him, what, less than a week? And yet you allow yourself to be alone with him in your apartment when you are so vulnerable?”
Craig’s eyes roamed around the room, some of the tension in his face vanishing with visible relief when he noticed the pillows and blankets on the couch, but returning again the instant he turned back and saw Shane. Since Shane was standing slightly in front of her, she couldn’t see his expression, but Craig could. His entire body went rigid.
“Your daughter needs you more than I do, Craig,” Lacie began. The heated burn of embarrassment and irritation rolled through her, even as her nurturing nature tried to take over. Despite her ire, it was an effort to ignore the stunned, and if she wasn’t mistaken, hurt look on his face. Shane’s presence gave her the strength and courage to overcome it.