post.”
She picked up her fork and twisted it into the pasta as if she had no cares in the world. Inside, she was trembling. She’d just bared some of her most private feelings to him and he was treating it like it was nothing. “Well, I’ll have to remember that. Thanks for the lesson.”
“Georgie.”
She looked up. He reached over and took her free hand in his. Squeezed. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. I was trying to protect you.”
“It’s not your job to protect me, Sam.”
He gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart stutter. “Actually, it is. Right now anyway.”
“I appreciate that, really. But it only applies to the situation with Jake, not to anything else. Please remember that.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good.”
He blew out a breath. “I wasn’t right for you then. I hope you realize that. I wasn’t in a good place, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You might not have wanted to, but you did anyway. Self-esteem can be a fragile thing at that age, and you shattered mine pretty badly when you pushed me away.”
“I was trying to do the right thing.”
“I know that now.” She took a bite of the pasta to cover her raw nerves. “Oh my God, this is good. So much better than sex.”
It wasn’t a good segue, but it would have to do. Because it didn’t do any good to talk about the past with Sam. She still felt like the annoying little kid. And the fact that he’d been trying to protect her when he’d turned her away twelve years ago? It only made her heart squeeze a little tighter and her emotions twist into knots.
Sam shook his head and laughed. “Now you’re just trying to bait me into saying something contradictory.”
“Maybe.” She took another bite and closed her eyes. “Or maybe not. Seriously, who needs a man when you have this? It’s an orgasm on a plate.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick, G.”
She grinned at him. “So you think. But really, sex is a bit overrated. Even you have to admit that. We get all worked up based on our hormones—and then what? It feels nice for a while and then it’s over.” She shrugged. “I’ve been living without it for over a year now, and I’m no worse off.”
Intense dark eyes raked over her face and something throbbed deep inside her. Suddenly, sex seemed a whole lot more important than she wanted it to be.
“Eat the pasta, G, and shut the hell up.”
“You’re growling again,” she said.
He only glared at her.
* * *
There was a thunderstorm later that night. The crack of thunder and sizzle of ozone woke Georgeanne up. She bolted up in bed, feeling disoriented until she remembered where she was. Sam was on a fold-up Army cot in the living room. He’d given her the bed and stationed himself in the small room right off the front door. She didn’t ask if he was armed. She didn’t have to.
He must have seen the concern on her face because he’d told her it was simply SOP—standard operating procedure. He didn’t expect a threat, but he prepared for one because that’s what he did.
She’d gone to bed feeling only marginally better since she suspected he wouldn’t tell her the truth anyway. There could be a whole boatload of bad guys out there and he wouldn’t let her know it. Except she had to admit that she was pretty confident in the men she’d met earlier today. They were on top of this, whatever this was, and they’d find the person who killed Jake.
Thunder cracked again, and Belle scrambled under the bed. Georgeanne threw the covers back and went into the bathroom. When she came out, she realized she’d drunk the bottle of water she’d set on her bedside table, so she went into the kitchen to get another one.
She could see Sam lying on the cot, one arm thrown over his face, the other beside him. Lightning flashed and illuminated the dark room for a split second, and Georgeanne had to stifle the groan on her lips.
God, he was beautiful. He lay on top of the covers, clad in a pair of
She picked up her fork and twisted it into the pasta as if she had no cares in the world. Inside, she was trembling. She’d just bared some of her most private feelings to him and he was treating it like it was nothing. “Well, I’ll have to remember that. Thanks for the lesson.”
“Georgie.”
She looked up. He reached over and took her free hand in his. Squeezed. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. I was trying to protect you.”
“It’s not your job to protect me, Sam.”
He gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart stutter. “Actually, it is. Right now anyway.”
“I appreciate that, really. But it only applies to the situation with Jake, not to anything else. Please remember that.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good.”
He blew out a breath. “I wasn’t right for you then. I hope you realize that. I wasn’t in a good place, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You might not have wanted to, but you did anyway. Self-esteem can be a fragile thing at that age, and you shattered mine pretty badly when you pushed me away.”
“I was trying to do the right thing.”
“I know that now.” She took a bite of the pasta to cover her raw nerves. “Oh my God, this is good. So much better than sex.”
It wasn’t a good segue, but it would have to do. Because it didn’t do any good to talk about the past with Sam. She still felt like the annoying little kid. And the fact that he’d been trying to protect her when he’d turned her away twelve years ago? It only made her heart squeeze a little tighter and her emotions twist into knots.
Sam shook his head and laughed. “Now you’re just trying to bait me into saying something contradictory.”
“Maybe.” She took another bite and closed her eyes. “Or maybe not. Seriously, who needs a man when you have this? It’s an orgasm on a plate.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick, G.”
She grinned at him. “So you think. But really, sex is a bit overrated. Even you have to admit that. We get all worked up based on our hormones—and then what? It feels nice for a while and then it’s over.” She shrugged. “I’ve been living without it for over a year now, and I’m no worse off.”
Intense dark eyes raked over her face and something throbbed deep inside her. Suddenly, sex seemed a whole lot more important than she wanted it to be.
“Eat the pasta, G, and shut the hell up.”
“You’re growling again,” she said.
He only glared at her.
* * *
There was a thunderstorm later that night. The crack of thunder and sizzle of ozone woke Georgeanne up. She bolted up in bed, feeling disoriented until she remembered where she was. Sam was on a fold-up Army cot in the living room. He’d given her the bed and stationed himself in the small room right off the front door. She didn’t ask if he was armed. She didn’t have to.
He must have seen the concern on her face because he’d told her it was simply SOP—standard operating procedure. He didn’t expect a threat, but he prepared for one because that’s what he did.
She’d gone to bed feeling only marginally better since she suspected he wouldn’t tell her the truth anyway. There could be a whole boatload of bad guys out there and he wouldn’t let her know it. Except she had to admit that she was pretty confident in the men she’d met earlier today. They were on top of this, whatever this was, and they’d find the person who killed Jake.
Thunder cracked again, and Belle scrambled under the bed. Georgeanne threw the covers back and went into the bathroom. When she came out, she realized she’d drunk the bottle of water she’d set on her bedside table, so she went into the kitchen to get another one.
She could see Sam lying on the cot, one arm thrown over his face, the other beside him. Lightning flashed and illuminated the dark room for a split second, and Georgeanne had to stifle the groan on her lips.
God, he was beautiful. He lay on top of the covers, clad in a pair of
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