“No. I—”
“Well, I haven’t.” She poked again. “And I don’t, okay. I can’t help the way I look. And I know what you’re thinking…” The nail turned, dug in as she gave out a harsh laugh. “Poor little pretty girl has it sooo hard.” Another tear fell, and she left it alone. It hovered at the base of her chin before dropping to her t-shirt, darkening the material near where her four-leaf pendant lay above her heaving chest. “You don’t know me. You don’t know…” Her voice cracked, and she trailed off, turning back to the stove.
In that moment, I felt helpless, and there was only one other time I felt this way.
The gun. Jessica on the floor. Bam.
I’d survived my childhood, getting into fistfights nearly every day. I’d built a multibillion-dollar company from the ground up. I could take apart any machine. I could fell a tree and make a house out of it. I could kill a man with my bare hands.
The thought stopped my mental tirade. I looked down at my hands and was almost able to see the blood still lingering there. Not the man’s blood, but hers. Jessica’s blood. And the blood of the child who died just ten days before she should have breathed her first breath.
No. I didn’t know Zoe. And she didn’t know me. She didn’t know what I was capable of. What I could do, would do if pressed into a corner.
Click. Click. Click.
As if sensing the tension growing in the cabin, Maggie nuzzled the side of my leg. The kitten pranced in behind her and started swatting at Zoe’s toes.
Zoe plated the omelet, added a few slices of bacon beside it before she stopped moving and exhaled a long breath.
She looked at me. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”
“I’m sorry for being thick and saying something that clearly upset you. You were right. I don’t know you.” I stepped closer to her, pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But I want to.”
And not just carnally. I wanted to know all of her. Inside and out.
Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she blinked them back and turned her face into my hand lingering there. She kissed my palm, her breath warm against my skin.
Then she stepped closer, until her body was pressed against mine. My heart squeezed as I looked down into her incredible eyes. “I want to know you too.”
CHAPTER NINE
Zoe
“Truth or dare.”
Startled, I just stared up at him. Then realized that for some reason, he was playing the game. “Truth.”
He grinned, those blue eyes shining. “Mustard or ketchup?”
I grinned too, understanding where this was going. After such a tense few minutes, he was lightening the mood. Plus, we both just said that we wanted to know the other better. What better way than with this game? “Ketchup mixed with mustard and mayo.”
There. If that didn’t run him off, nothing would.
His grin only grew wider. “Me too.” His hand fell away, and he reached for both plates. “Want to pour the coffee?”
“Truth or dare.”
He lifted a brow. “Truth.”
“Black or with sugar and cream?”
The little gap in his front teeth appeared. “Black.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Figures. Do you beat your hairy chest at night too?”
He looked offended. “Hey, I’m hairy, but not Chewbacca hairy.”
Laughing, I raised a hand to his face and stroked his beard. “You sure? Truth or dare.”
He narrowed his eyes. “It’s officially my turn, but I’ll let you cheat this time, so… dare.”
I was expecting another “truth,” so the “dare” surprised me. I knew what I wanted, but I also knew I was stepping into dangerous territory. For some reason, I didn’t much care.
“I dare you to show me your non-hairy chest. I don’t believe you, Chewy.”
He barked out a laugh and set the plates on the counter. Very slowly, he pulled his shirt up, but didn’t take it off. Oh. Good. God.
He was right. He did have hair on his chest, but it was more like a smattering than a bush. My eyes fell down his body, past the sexy outline of his abs and to his bellybutton, where a new trail of hair began. The trail was cut off by the gray sweats he wore low on his hips. The sweats that covered… oh heaven, a bulge. A big bulge.
I’ll make you feel real good.
Hating where my mind had gone, I turned away too abruptly, too sharply. I was forced to catch myself on the counter to stop from falling like a downed gazelle to the floor. Still unsteady, I opened the cabinet for the coffee mugs I’d seen earlier, pulling two down.
He dropped the shirt, his hands outstretched like he might have to catch me at any moment. “You okay?”
I laughed, but it was shaky even to my ears. “Yes. Just a little dizzy. When does that go away?”
“Depends. It could be a couple days or a couple weeks. Without a brain scan it’s difficult to know the extent of the injury.”
Opening the fridge, I pulled out the milk, then found the sugar in a bowl in another cabinet. “You seem to know quite a lot about medical stuff.” I could feel the frantic movements of my hands but couldn’t seem to slow them from their jerky pace.
His palms came down on my shoulders before sliding down my arms to hold my wrists. “Pre-med in college. Hated it. Why are you shaking?”
I tried to pull away, mad at myself for not controlling my emotions. “It’s nothing.” I tried to smile but knew it fell flat. “I’m fine.”
“Stop.” Exhaling, I did as he said and let him take the sugar and milk away, setting them on the counter. “I’m sorry, Zoe. I’m being too forward with you. Too familiar. I keep forgetting we’re strangers. Forgetting how vulnerable you are.”
I didn’t feel vulnerable. Confused maybe, but not vulnerable. Not with him. It was just the images that wanted to flash through my mind when I didn’t expect them to. Images of that night. Those men. How they’d laughed when the first one forced himself into me. “You’re wet,” he’d hissed in my ear. “See how much you want this? You’re a natural. Just like your mother.”
I shuddered, and Gray took both my hands in his, rubbing them like he was trying to rub away the cold. What he didn’t understand was that I wasn’t cold. I was hot. Burning with anger. Yes, anger at those men, but also at myself. You’re wet. Did that mean I wanted them to do what they did? Did a part of me, the deep, dark part of me that was just like my mother, want them inside my body? Did I want them to make me feel good?
The questions haunted me, crept into my dreams. Was I like her after all?
You’re wet.
That was why I didn’t go to the police. That was why I didn’t tell Leslie or anyone else. That was why I couldn’t eat and my ulcers got worse, and why I ran away to the mountains. Away from myself.
“Hey…” He tipped my chin up until I was looking at him. “What just happened?”