looking forward to starting some projects.”
“That’s nice.” Also nice was the glimmer in his eye. “So what happened to ruin your mood?”
He shot her a look. “What makes you think something happened?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I know you.” Such simple words. The depths they reflected were astounding. She did know him. Working with him for weeks, sharing meals, talking about everything and nothing… She did know him.
The revelation seemed to shock him too. He paled.
She refused to let him off the hook. “So what was it?”
“I ran into Joseph McCoy.”
“Really?” She studied his expression. “I thought you were friends.”
“We are. We just had a difficult conversation.”
That was kind of surprising. Joseph was not a difficult conversation kind of guy. At least, not in her experience. He, of all the McCoys, was the most playful one. “What did you talk about?”
He waited until he pulled into the driveway and put the car in park to answer. He turned and fixed her with a steady gaze. “You.”
“Me?” She forced a laugh. It even sounded fake. “Why?”
“He’s worried about you. Well, they all are.”
“All the McCoys?”
“Apparently.” He grinned, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “They’re worried about you spending time with me.”
She gaped at him. “Wh-why?”
Andrew sighed and raked his hair. “Listen, Melissa, there is something you need to know about me.”
Anxiety skittered up her spine at his tone. She couldn’t imagine there was anything she didn’t know about him. Anything that mattered, anyway. “Okay.”
“I…ah…” He stared at the house; a muscle flexed in his cheek. “My dad was a bastard.”
Yeah. She’d figured that much out already. “And?”
He flicked a look at her, but quickly resumed scowling at the house. “He beat my mom, the way Baron beat you.”
Heat flared in her veins as she realized everyone knew her business. That he knew it.
Damn small town gossip.
“He beat my brother. And he beat me. But the physical abuse was only part of it. He…”
She had to stop him. She didn’t want to hear. Didn’t need to. She set her hand on his arm and he flinched. “I know. You don’t have to tell me.”
“Melissa…”
“What does any of this have to do with us?” Or the McCoys?
“I’ve never had a relationship. You know. A long term thing.”
“Okay.”
“Because…I didn’t want to discover that I…”
Oh, God, this was tearing him apart. She knew his deepest fears. She could see through to his soul. See those dark shadows writhing in his heart.
“Do you think you’re like him?”
He seemed surprised that she just came out and said it, tearing away the veil and revealing his snarling dragons. He stared at her for a long moment. “I… It worries me. That I could be.”
She had to laugh. That seemed to surprise him too. “You’re not.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
How did she? She saw it in his eyes.
“For God’s sake, Andrew. I lived with a batterer. You get a sixth sense about these things. Trust me, I’ve been watching you. Waiting for you to lose your temper since the day we met.”
“And what do you see when you look at me?”
“I see a man who can control his temper. A man who loves French toast.”
“Melissa…” he tried to wave off her joke.
“ Really loves French toast.”
“Be serious.”
“Oh, I am. You and I have had debate after debate about your stupid political leanings—”
“Now hold on there—”
“And how many times did you smack me in the mouth for disagreeing with you?”
He gaped at her. “None. Shit. None. Why would I—”
“How many times have you screamed at me for spilling paint on the carpet?”
“It was an accident.”
“And when Toto ate your shower shoes, what did you do?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You laughed. Laughed.”
“I’m not following.”
“Of course you’re not. Do you know why?”
“Obviously not.”
“Because,”
“That’s nice.” Also nice was the glimmer in his eye. “So what happened to ruin your mood?”
He shot her a look. “What makes you think something happened?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I know you.” Such simple words. The depths they reflected were astounding. She did know him. Working with him for weeks, sharing meals, talking about everything and nothing… She did know him.
The revelation seemed to shock him too. He paled.
She refused to let him off the hook. “So what was it?”
“I ran into Joseph McCoy.”
“Really?” She studied his expression. “I thought you were friends.”
“We are. We just had a difficult conversation.”
That was kind of surprising. Joseph was not a difficult conversation kind of guy. At least, not in her experience. He, of all the McCoys, was the most playful one. “What did you talk about?”
He waited until he pulled into the driveway and put the car in park to answer. He turned and fixed her with a steady gaze. “You.”
“Me?” She forced a laugh. It even sounded fake. “Why?”
“He’s worried about you. Well, they all are.”
“All the McCoys?”
“Apparently.” He grinned, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “They’re worried about you spending time with me.”
She gaped at him. “Wh-why?”
Andrew sighed and raked his hair. “Listen, Melissa, there is something you need to know about me.”
Anxiety skittered up her spine at his tone. She couldn’t imagine there was anything she didn’t know about him. Anything that mattered, anyway. “Okay.”
“I…ah…” He stared at the house; a muscle flexed in his cheek. “My dad was a bastard.”
Yeah. She’d figured that much out already. “And?”
He flicked a look at her, but quickly resumed scowling at the house. “He beat my mom, the way Baron beat you.”
Heat flared in her veins as she realized everyone knew her business. That he knew it.
Damn small town gossip.
“He beat my brother. And he beat me. But the physical abuse was only part of it. He…”
She had to stop him. She didn’t want to hear. Didn’t need to. She set her hand on his arm and he flinched. “I know. You don’t have to tell me.”
“Melissa…”
“What does any of this have to do with us?” Or the McCoys?
“I’ve never had a relationship. You know. A long term thing.”
“Okay.”
“Because…I didn’t want to discover that I…”
Oh, God, this was tearing him apart. She knew his deepest fears. She could see through to his soul. See those dark shadows writhing in his heart.
“Do you think you’re like him?”
He seemed surprised that she just came out and said it, tearing away the veil and revealing his snarling dragons. He stared at her for a long moment. “I… It worries me. That I could be.”
She had to laugh. That seemed to surprise him too. “You’re not.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
How did she? She saw it in his eyes.
“For God’s sake, Andrew. I lived with a batterer. You get a sixth sense about these things. Trust me, I’ve been watching you. Waiting for you to lose your temper since the day we met.”
“And what do you see when you look at me?”
“I see a man who can control his temper. A man who loves French toast.”
“Melissa…” he tried to wave off her joke.
“ Really loves French toast.”
“Be serious.”
“Oh, I am. You and I have had debate after debate about your stupid political leanings—”
“Now hold on there—”
“And how many times did you smack me in the mouth for disagreeing with you?”
He gaped at her. “None. Shit. None. Why would I—”
“How many times have you screamed at me for spilling paint on the carpet?”
“It was an accident.”
“And when Toto ate your shower shoes, what did you do?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You laughed. Laughed.”
“I’m not following.”
“Of course you’re not. Do you know why?”
“Obviously not.”
“Because,”
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