He pulled it out of his pocket and held it up. “You don’t?”
“I do,” she admitted with a flushed expression. “It’s in my jacket. Why did we keep them? They’re just rocks.”
“Apache tears,” he corrected. “It worked for me. I think it helped me to see exactly what I wanted. I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t.”
She nodded. “To help your family, and be closer to them.”
And to be closer to you. “Why is it so hard to believe that I just want to spend time with you?”
She looked up at him, her expression startled. “Because I don’t understand it. All we’ve ever done is argue.”
“Not always,” he answered in a low, raw voice.
“Okay. We had one good weekend. But other than that, we have nothing in common. I grew up in a world where every penny counted. I’ve never been attractive. In fact, I was bullied in school because I was a nerd—a chubby, redheaded, freckled nerd. Mara was one of my only friends back then.”
Okay. Maybe it happened years ago, but Julian still had to clench his fists to keep from punching something. “What happened?”
“My dad was a boxer in his earlier days. I finally got to the point where I could beat the crap out of anybody who gave me any shit,” she told him proudly.
“That’s why you hate the nickname Red?”
She nodded. “It was never exactly used in a fond way.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
She shrugged him off. “It was a long time ago.”
Julian knew it was an experience that had shaped her perception of herself. “But you know the way you see yourself is messed up, right?”
“I’m realistic,” she argued.
“No, you’re not. That cute redheaded, freckled girl grew into a bombshell redhead who is hot enough to make almost any guy have wet dreams about fucking you.”
“You’re the only person who says that,” she answered, sounding flustered.
“Maybe no guy says it, but they’re thinking about it. Believe me. I’ve seen you in a little black dress that’s a cock teaser.”
“Was it you who went through my underwear?”
“Baby, if I was in your panties, you’d know it.” He gave her a smartass answer.
She scowled and released an exasperated sound. “You know what I mean. Did you buy the dress? The underwear? Everything?”
“One of my assistants in California helped me pick it out. She said it would look great on a redhead. She was right.”
“Where did you get my key?”
Oh, hell, she talked to Mara. She knows Mara wasn’t an accomplice.
“Liam owns the apartment buildings. The rent you pay goes to one of his property corporations.” He saw the outraged look on her face, so he quickly added, “Don’t blame him. I told him we were in a hurry to get out of town and to Vegas. He let me in before he left.”
“That’s still a sneaky damn thing to do. And he lied to me. He told me that you probably got the key from my parents. What if you weren’t being honest? What if somebody else wanted to get into my apartment?”
“He thinks you asked me to get your stuff. He had no reason to doubt me. He isn’t the type to just let anybody into your home. I lied to him, and he was trying to cover for me. He probably didn’t know what the hell to say when he realized you didn’t send me for your stuff. He was pretty damn sure I wasn’t after any money or credit cards, so I’m sure he wants to confront me and get the truth before he fesses up to the fact that he let me in.”
“I don’t want men pawing through my underwear.” She shot him an annoyed look.
Honestly, Julian didn’t want any guy feeling up her underwear but him. “I didn’t paw. I just took some and threw them in the suitcase,” he rumbled.
“And my parents? Who made the deal with them? You or Liam?”
“I sought them out first. I like them both a lot. I wanted to help them.”
He saw her body tense protectively. “You met my mom and dad. And they actually like you.”
“I can be charming,” he protested. “Of course they like me.”
“I haven’t talked to them about this yet,” she confided. “I guess I was hurt because they never told me they were taking on a partner . . . or partners. Maybe I don’t own the bar, but I’ve busted my ass to keep it afloat.”
“I asked them not to say anything until I told you myself.” God, Julian hated himself for not coming clean earlier. He could see that disappointed look on her face again. “It’s not their fault. I know how much work you put into the bar. I shouldn’t have asked them to wait for me to tell you. They wanted to consult you first, I think.”
“I doubt that,” she retorted. “They have too much other stuff going on.”
Julian felt a pain in his chest, an ache that wouldn’t go away. “It must have been difficult growing up with your mom sick.”
“You know she has multiple sclerosis?” she asked inquisitively.