Page 37 of The Complete Truth Duet
Her eyes searched mine, the most beautiful disbelief crinkling the corners. “Why would you care?”
Because you hold the answers to end my miserable existence once and for all.
And because no woman deserves to live in fear—but especially not you.
“I just do.” I extended a hand in her direction. “Now, tell me we have a deal.”
The confusion on her face slayed me. Christ, this woman was so far gone that she couldn’t fathom why someone would want to protect her.
But I did—fiercely.
I pushed my hand out farther. “Say it.”
She tipped her head to the side and eyed me warily. “Not until you tell me why you care?”
I wanted to tell her. She deserved at least that much. But neither of us was ready for that venomous snake.
So I told her a different truth. “The world is an ugly place, Cora. It’s filled with more sinners than saints. More hate than love. More chaos than kindness. And that’s not because the world is filled with bad people. It’s because the good ones stay silent.”
Her whole incredible body jerked in surprise. “Is that why you sit outside my door?” She lifted a shaking hand to her mouth. “Are you trying to…protect me?”
“I won’t keep quiet. I won’t turn a blind eye. And I won’t stay out of it. No man should ever put his hands on you. Please tell me you know that?”
Her breath hitched. “Who are you?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
She held my unwavering gaze.
And I held hers, making silent promises I prayed I would be able to keep.
After several beats, she squared her shoulders, straightened her back, took my hand, looked me straight in the eye, and lied, “I think I liked it better when you were avoiding me.”
“Bullshit.”
“Okay, okay, fine. You’ve got a deal.” She gave my hand a sharp pull, tugging me closer. Not that I fought her or anything. “Under one condition: You actually accept my invitation to dinner this time so I can properly thank you for cleaning up Angela’s apartment.”
She’d been lucky I only cleaned it. My original instinct had been to burn the place to the ground. Had it not been filled with sleeping women, I’d have done just that.
“It was nothing.”
“Fine. Then it can be a nothing-thank-you dinner. And for the love of all that’s holy, bring Drew. I figure the only thing that can counteract the formaldehyde he consumed in those nasty hot dogs he ate for breakfast is, like, broccoli or carrots or… Shit, I may need to bring out the big guns. How do you feel about Brussels sprouts?” She paused, her gaze dipping to my mouth. “Shit, you’re smiling again.”
I was. And it was radiating throughout my entire body.
I pointed to my mouth. “This? Nah. It’s a medical condition that flares up every now and again. I’m sure you learned about it in nursing school.”
She laughed, and I felt that too, deep down in places I’d long since forgotten about. Places she had no business being.
“So, is that a yes to dinner?” She peered up at me, batting her lashes and smiling huge.
Alarms screamed in my head, dread planting roots in my stomach.
It was wrong to touch her. To steal her warmth when I’d never be able to offer it to her in return—not honestly, anyway. But I couldn’t stop myself. Finding the curve of her hips, I pulled her off-balance until she stumbled into my arms.
I couldn’t see her face, but her body melted against me as if I’d answered her one and only prayer.
If only I still believed in God.
“I’ll be there, Cora,” I whispered into the top of her hair.
Cora
“Please tell me we don’t have to eat this?” Savannah complained, carrying a baby-spinach salad to the table.
I swallowed a sip of beer and set the bottle on the counter beside the pan sizzling hand-molded turkey burgers. “Vegetables are not the devil. And your thirty-year-old metabolism will thank me for teaching you that.”
River walked by, snagging a piece of bacon off a plate and popping it into her mouth. “Doesn’t bacon defeat the point of making turkey burgers?”
“Probably. But I like to think they cancel each other out.”
Crunching on another strip, she propped her hip against the counter and gave me a once-over. “You look nice tonight.”
Twisting my lips, I gave her the side-eye. “It’s jeans and a tank top. Practically my uniform.”
“Nooo,” she drawled. “It’s jeans that have been ironed, a silky tank top with spaghetti straps. And you’re wearing wedges and”—she reached up and gave my silver chandelier earring a jingle—“jewelry.”
I swatted her hand away. “We have company coming over.”
She shot me a who-you-trying-to-lie-to glare. “Penn gonna show this time?”
I looked away to hide my smile. “He said he was.”
“Ah, so he’s finally speaking to you? Makes the whole obsessing thing a lot easier.”
I turned to fully face her, my spatula hovering over the pan. “I haven’t been obsessing about him.”
