sky yet unloading more snow into ever-deepening drifts.
“ Nope. So what do you want to do until the storm breaks?” A mischievous smile lit his face. “Wait —I have it. We can get drunk. That will pass the time.” He raised the bottle and took another long drink.
Kaylee stared at her bottle, grinning ruefully. “I’ve never been drunk before.”
“I was kidding, Kaylee. Hell, it’s bad enough for you to have a stranger in your home. The last thing you need is a drunk stranger.” He sauntered to a window glazed with a light frost that distorted the landscape.
Kaylee walked up beside him, standing so closely their shoulders touched. “You sure have a lot of dos and don’ts, Bastian.”
“That’s a good thing ; you could use a few more don’ts.” He lifted the beer to his lips and took a swig.
“Meaning?” Kaylee turned, frowning as her blue eyes flashed in irritation.
Bastian set his beer on the windowsill and leveled his gaze at her. “ You should lock your damned door. You’re asking for trouble.”
“It’s just stuff, Bastian.” She looked around the room. “I’d never even miss it.”
“Not all bad guys are after stuff, Kaylee.” Bastian followed her gaze. He balled his fingers into fists just to keep from grabbing her shoulders and shaking some sense into her.
“What do you think those ‘ bad guys’ are going to do to me?” She brushed her finger against the glass, drawing an angel in the fog.
“They could hurt you, rape you…kill you . ” H is voice cracked. Bastian grabbed her wrist with one hand and with the other guided her chin so she had to face him. Despite her effort to pull free, Bastian maintained his grip.
“I’m not afraid . ” Kaylee stilled in his grip , f ocusing on a piece of lint on the carpet .
“You should be , ” he growled. “What's wrong with you? You act like you’re invincible. I’ve seen what a woman’s face looks like when somebody ’s beaten her. If you knew what that looked like, you’d lock your door. ” His jaw clenched so tightly his mouth hurt , and h is heart hammered in his chest as he forced himself to release her.
“It doesn’t matter, Bastian. No lock will protect me.” Kaylee looked at the red ring on her wrist, rubbing it lightly.
“That doesn’t make sense . Did that run - in with your dresser knock something loose? Hell, maybe I need to take you back to the hospital. ” Bastian pointed to the Band - Aid on her forehead.
“It has nothing to do with hitting my head. I’ve been this contrary for about nine months.” Kaylee walked to the couch and perched on the armrest next to her easel.
“What happened nine months ago?” Bastian tried to focus on the snow, on the fogged glass, anything except the frustration he felt when he thought of someone entering Kaylee’s house while she slept. He could see some guy standing over her with a knife , and h e shuddered.
“My doctor told me I had cancer, Bastian.”
Bastian whirled and the color drained from his face. “What?”
“I have cancer,” she half-whispered. “In my brain.”
“ So you’re not really having migraines,” he said finally , moving to the couch.
“Sure I am. I just didn’t tell you what caused them.” She unfastened the watch strapped to her wrist and set it on the table.
“So that’s why the doctor wanted to keep you in the hospital.” Bastian stared at that watch, memorizing the time. 11:17. He swallowed hard and thought of the gun in his truck.
“They can’t help me. I want a normal life, not one filled with doctors and medicine.” Kaylee patted Bastian’s knee. She lay against the couch.
“Even if it’s not as long as it could be? What about chemo? ” he asked, finally turning from the watch to Kaylee’s face.
“It's useless.” She rested one arm on the back of the couch and the other across
“ Nope. So what do you want to do until the storm breaks?” A mischievous smile lit his face. “Wait —I have it. We can get drunk. That will pass the time.” He raised the bottle and took another long drink.
Kaylee stared at her bottle, grinning ruefully. “I’ve never been drunk before.”
“I was kidding, Kaylee. Hell, it’s bad enough for you to have a stranger in your home. The last thing you need is a drunk stranger.” He sauntered to a window glazed with a light frost that distorted the landscape.
Kaylee walked up beside him, standing so closely their shoulders touched. “You sure have a lot of dos and don’ts, Bastian.”
“That’s a good thing ; you could use a few more don’ts.” He lifted the beer to his lips and took a swig.
“Meaning?” Kaylee turned, frowning as her blue eyes flashed in irritation.
Bastian set his beer on the windowsill and leveled his gaze at her. “ You should lock your damned door. You’re asking for trouble.”
“It’s just stuff, Bastian.” She looked around the room. “I’d never even miss it.”
“Not all bad guys are after stuff, Kaylee.” Bastian followed her gaze. He balled his fingers into fists just to keep from grabbing her shoulders and shaking some sense into her.
“What do you think those ‘ bad guys’ are going to do to me?” She brushed her finger against the glass, drawing an angel in the fog.
“They could hurt you, rape you…kill you . ” H is voice cracked. Bastian grabbed her wrist with one hand and with the other guided her chin so she had to face him. Despite her effort to pull free, Bastian maintained his grip.
“I’m not afraid . ” Kaylee stilled in his grip , f ocusing on a piece of lint on the carpet .
“You should be , ” he growled. “What's wrong with you? You act like you’re invincible. I’ve seen what a woman’s face looks like when somebody ’s beaten her. If you knew what that looked like, you’d lock your door. ” His jaw clenched so tightly his mouth hurt , and h is heart hammered in his chest as he forced himself to release her.
“It doesn’t matter, Bastian. No lock will protect me.” Kaylee looked at the red ring on her wrist, rubbing it lightly.
“That doesn’t make sense . Did that run - in with your dresser knock something loose? Hell, maybe I need to take you back to the hospital. ” Bastian pointed to the Band - Aid on her forehead.
“It has nothing to do with hitting my head. I’ve been this contrary for about nine months.” Kaylee walked to the couch and perched on the armrest next to her easel.
“What happened nine months ago?” Bastian tried to focus on the snow, on the fogged glass, anything except the frustration he felt when he thought of someone entering Kaylee’s house while she slept. He could see some guy standing over her with a knife , and h e shuddered.
“My doctor told me I had cancer, Bastian.”
Bastian whirled and the color drained from his face. “What?”
“I have cancer,” she half-whispered. “In my brain.”
“ So you’re not really having migraines,” he said finally , moving to the couch.
“Sure I am. I just didn’t tell you what caused them.” She unfastened the watch strapped to her wrist and set it on the table.
“So that’s why the doctor wanted to keep you in the hospital.” Bastian stared at that watch, memorizing the time. 11:17. He swallowed hard and thought of the gun in his truck.
“They can’t help me. I want a normal life, not one filled with doctors and medicine.” Kaylee patted Bastian’s knee. She lay against the couch.
“Even if it’s not as long as it could be? What about chemo? ” he asked, finally turning from the watch to Kaylee’s face.
“It's useless.” She rested one arm on the back of the couch and the other across
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