This might have been true but I certainly didn’t want to hear it.
“Regardless of that, I intended to have you, one day, and that was always at the back of my mind, so I considered you mine even when you weren’t. It was common knowledge our families were close. Half the ass**les I knew came to me tellin’ me they wanted a piece of you, the other half lyin’ about havin’ a piece. Why do you think I fought so goddamned much?”
Yikes.
That was news.
He went on. “I knew I had to get my shit together before I got us together. By the time that happened, you were avoiding me. We’ve discussed this part, without much of your honest participation. This brings us to now.”
He stared at me.
I kept my mouth shut.
“You can jump in anytime you feel like it,” he said.
Hmm, sarcasm.
“You shouldn’t have read my diary,” I snapped.
“Get over it.”
“I’m not gonna get over it. That’s personal. How I feel about you should be for me to tell you.”
He waited a beat.
“Point taken.”
That’s as far as he went, no apology and no remorse.
Jerk.
“I was a young girl with an infatuation. You shouldn’t mistake who I was for who I am now.”
Lee made no comment.
“That said, I am what I am. I’m still a wild child, I still do stupid, crazy things. I listen to rock ‘n’ roll, loud. I lip sync with drag queens. I find it fun to try to out-attitude the Sushi Den hostesses and sometimes, Ally and me even joyride around Denver. I haven’t changed and you can’t control me. If you even want to, I’m gone.”
“There’s a difference between controlling and protecting,” he remarked.
“Yeah, be careful not to cross that line. A line, I might add, you crossed this morning.” I was on a roll. “And while we’re talking about control, I may not have changed, but you have. The Lee I thought I loved when I was a teenager is not you.”
That pissed him off and his eyes narrowed. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Do you mean to imply that I am?”
“Jesus, Indy, if you had the wall around you any more fortified, it’d be so deep you’d be in f**king Mexico.”
“I’ve always let it all hang out!”
“Bullshit.”
I made an angry noise that sounded like someone had punched me in the stomach.
“You got something to say?” I demanded.
His face changed, there was something there I’d never seen before. Something the looks of which scared the hell out of me.
When he spoke, his voice was softer, even gentle.
“You live every day like tomorrow isn’t gonna come. Your mother died before she reached your age. You watched your father chose to live a lonely life rather than replace her. It doesn’t take a psychologist to put those things together and figure out why you allow yourself to take care of all the Rosies and Texes of the world but don’t allow anyone to get very close to you.”
That was when I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.
I turned my head away and bucked again. “Get off me.”
“Un-unh.” He curved his fingers and thumb around my chin and jaw and forced me to look at him. “I’m not gettin’ off, not goin’ away, not playin’ anymore games or wastin’ anymore f**kin’ time. I don’t believe in fate or destiny or any of that bullshit. What I know is that, as far as I can tell, there isn’t another woman I’ve met who fits my life. Who doesn’t care if I get home late after she’s made a special dinner. Who doesn’t have a hemorrhage when I talk about one of my men gettin’ shot, goin’ off about how she feels about my work. You got up and made everyone coffee, for f**k’s sake. You’re a woman who tells me to be careful when I tell her I’m out hunting humans, instead of bitchin’ and wantin’ to process how my career choice makes her feel. If an employee walked into their kitchen with a gun and shot at their neighbor, most people would lose their f**king minds. You spent the morning makin’ brownies and the afternoon sleepin’ in the sun. You live hard, play hard and don’t seem to be scared of anything but manage to keep a softness about you that’s almost unreal. You wanted me to tell you why I’m sure about you, that’s why I’m sure. You grew up and your only parent was a cop, you know the drill. I don’t have any interest in trainin’ someone to get it and I need someone strong enough to live with it. That’s you.”
I stared at him, eyes wide. I’d never heard him say so much, all at one time, in my life. And I’d known him my entire life.
“How often do your men get shot?” I asked.
“Shot at, too often. Shot, luckily, rarely.”
I wanted to ask how often he got shot at or had been shot. I wanted to ask but I didn’t want to know the answer. So I didn’t ask.
“Smart decision,” he murmured. He was in my brain. Again.
“I do get scared,” I whispered, “you scare me.”
His eyes crinkled.
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard in a week.”
I was stunned.
“That you scare me?”
His mouth brushed mine.
“If I scare you, then you care. I’m the same Lee, just older and smarter. You love me, eventually your wall will come down and you’ll admit it to yourself and then you’ll admit it to me.”
Jeez, he was so cocky.
His hands started moving on me and he began to nuzzle my neck again.
Apparently our little drama was over.
“I don’t think I’m done being pissed at you,” I told him.
“That’s okay,” he said against my ear, “I can still make love to you when you’re angry.”
Unbelievably cocky.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
His hand went between my legs, his fingers executing a delicious little swirl that was just enough pressure to get my attention but light enough to make me want more.
Bastard.
I opened my legs a bit, I couldn’t help it.
He kissed me as reward.
“I promised to show you who I was, which mostly you know, today you’ll learn more,” he said when he was nuzzling my neck again. I was kind of listening but his fingers were exerting more pressure and doing some more swirl action so I was finding it hard. “And I promised to tell you what I wanted and give you time to decide.”
Oh no, this wasn’t fair.