Coming Undone
Page 8
He grinned. He liked the blush, and the lack of a wedding ring on her left hand as well. “You do have that sort of face. Angelic. Beautiful. My sister wants to thank you too. She’s pretty protective and she’d have been a lot more upset if she’d gotten the call from the hospital instead of you. So I thank you for that also.”
“I’m glad you’re all right. Did they catch the person who hit you?”
“Not yet. They have his identity, thanks to you and your sharp eyes. But he’s on the run. He’s got a long history of DUI, and this is apparently one of those last-chance things. It’s probably why he didn’t stop.”
“Either that or he’s the kind of thoughtless jerk who repeatedly drives drunk, gets stopped, arrested, set free and drives drunk again.” Her mouth twisted and he saw something in her eyes, just for a brief moment, before it slid away again.
“Could be. Sorry, I was having a glass-half-full moment.”
“Join me on the dark side. We have cookies to go with our halfempty glasses of milk.”
He started and then laughed. “I do like cookies.”
She blushed again, and he knew he’d be back, because he had a bit of a like on for the very charming, blushing Elise. Like was a good thing between two single adults. Especially if it entailed naked and horizontal moments.
“I’ll see you around the neighborhood then, Elise. Thank you again, for everything.” He stepped back, and he didn’t fail to notice the way her spine lost some of its tension.
She walked him to the door, and he waved, winking at Irene before he turned to amble on back to his place.
Elise managed to hold off fanning her face until she’d shut the door and locked it . . . and sneaked another look at a man who looked damn fine from the back. He’d startled her, but she’d learned enough from the neighbors to know he wasn’t a man prone to violence or harm.
On the ground as he’d been the weekend before, or from a distance, he hadn’t seemed so huge. But christamighty, he was gigantic. For a moment when he’d first reached her, he’d towered over her. Fear had washed through her, evoking that fight-or-flight response, and it had been a hard-fought moment to get herself back under control.
He must have sensed something, because he stepped back, not quickly and not really slowly. But he gave her space and it allowed her to breathe again. And that’s when she really began to see him.
He was . . . Well, there wasn’t any other man she could compare him to really. His hair was close-cropped but tousled. If it had been longer she’d have bet he’d have had thick curls. Dark as night. The neatly trimmed goatee and mustache worked for him, framed a mouth she was quite convinced would deliver some devastating goodness. He wasn’t going to hurt her, she knew that much.
No, she was threatened on a whole different level. Like a sensory bomb had gone off as she’d stood there, resisting the urge to rub herself on him. So alluring, this man. His voice, oh good lord, his voice was like suede. Deep and rough/soft. When he wasn’t on the ground, out of it and bloody, he was hot. Up close, he was . . . a bit overwhelming. More than handsome— he was too hard-edged to be handsome—he was compelling, magnetic.
She needed to keep her distance until she figured it out. She was suspicious of her response to him. When she’d met Ken, it had been lust at first sight. He had been a big personality too. He’d taken over every conversation, had managed every detail until she’d been in so deep it was all she could do to tread water and not drown.
When it had been good, he was a force of nature. Funny, solicitous, affectionate, intelligent and creative. But he had demons, and instead of dealing with them appropriately, he’d self-medicated, and it had turned those demons into pain for everyone around him.
No, she couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t know if her attraction was to someone real or to some idea. God knew she couldn’t survive another Ken, and until she got a mental handle on herself and what brought about certain choices in her life, she’d forgo relationships.
She had Rennie to raise and a business to run. She knew she’d have sex with someone in the future—she was a woman in the sexual prime of her life, and there was only so much mast***ation she could engage in. After a while, mast***ation felt empty. It met her need, but it was not the same as having a man above you. However, love was out of the picture. Romance was out of the picture. She didn’t have the time and she didn’t know if she had the heart anymore.
Sex with Brody Brown? Well, now, that wasn’t such a bad idea. She hadn’t dated in a million years, but she remembered enough to recognize the attraction in Brody’s eyes, the way he lingered, his gaze snagging on her mouth.
Enough of that for the moment! She’d turn into a puddle of goo if she kept thinking along those lines.
“Rennie, let’s get those groceries unloaded and then we’ll make dinner and you can call your grandmother before your bath.”
Rennie froze a moment, panic on her face. “No.”
Alarmed, Elise knelt before her daughter and took her hands. “Noodle? What’s wrong?”
Her normally good-natured daughter crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to. You can’t make me.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Take a bath? You’re a mess, you’ll feel better after you get all cleaned up.”
“I don’t want to call them. I don’t want to talk to her.”
Had Rennie and Martine had some sort of falling out? Rennie would have said, or her mother. Elise had just spoken to her mother the day before, and there had been no mention of a problem. “You never have to talk to Gran and Pops if you don’t want to. I thought you’d like to tell them about your day, but if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”
“I’m glad you’re all right. Did they catch the person who hit you?”
“Not yet. They have his identity, thanks to you and your sharp eyes. But he’s on the run. He’s got a long history of DUI, and this is apparently one of those last-chance things. It’s probably why he didn’t stop.”
“Either that or he’s the kind of thoughtless jerk who repeatedly drives drunk, gets stopped, arrested, set free and drives drunk again.” Her mouth twisted and he saw something in her eyes, just for a brief moment, before it slid away again.
“Could be. Sorry, I was having a glass-half-full moment.”
“Join me on the dark side. We have cookies to go with our halfempty glasses of milk.”
He started and then laughed. “I do like cookies.”
She blushed again, and he knew he’d be back, because he had a bit of a like on for the very charming, blushing Elise. Like was a good thing between two single adults. Especially if it entailed naked and horizontal moments.
“I’ll see you around the neighborhood then, Elise. Thank you again, for everything.” He stepped back, and he didn’t fail to notice the way her spine lost some of its tension.
She walked him to the door, and he waved, winking at Irene before he turned to amble on back to his place.
Elise managed to hold off fanning her face until she’d shut the door and locked it . . . and sneaked another look at a man who looked damn fine from the back. He’d startled her, but she’d learned enough from the neighbors to know he wasn’t a man prone to violence or harm.
On the ground as he’d been the weekend before, or from a distance, he hadn’t seemed so huge. But christamighty, he was gigantic. For a moment when he’d first reached her, he’d towered over her. Fear had washed through her, evoking that fight-or-flight response, and it had been a hard-fought moment to get herself back under control.
He must have sensed something, because he stepped back, not quickly and not really slowly. But he gave her space and it allowed her to breathe again. And that’s when she really began to see him.
He was . . . Well, there wasn’t any other man she could compare him to really. His hair was close-cropped but tousled. If it had been longer she’d have bet he’d have had thick curls. Dark as night. The neatly trimmed goatee and mustache worked for him, framed a mouth she was quite convinced would deliver some devastating goodness. He wasn’t going to hurt her, she knew that much.
No, she was threatened on a whole different level. Like a sensory bomb had gone off as she’d stood there, resisting the urge to rub herself on him. So alluring, this man. His voice, oh good lord, his voice was like suede. Deep and rough/soft. When he wasn’t on the ground, out of it and bloody, he was hot. Up close, he was . . . a bit overwhelming. More than handsome— he was too hard-edged to be handsome—he was compelling, magnetic.
She needed to keep her distance until she figured it out. She was suspicious of her response to him. When she’d met Ken, it had been lust at first sight. He had been a big personality too. He’d taken over every conversation, had managed every detail until she’d been in so deep it was all she could do to tread water and not drown.
When it had been good, he was a force of nature. Funny, solicitous, affectionate, intelligent and creative. But he had demons, and instead of dealing with them appropriately, he’d self-medicated, and it had turned those demons into pain for everyone around him.
No, she couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t know if her attraction was to someone real or to some idea. God knew she couldn’t survive another Ken, and until she got a mental handle on herself and what brought about certain choices in her life, she’d forgo relationships.
She had Rennie to raise and a business to run. She knew she’d have sex with someone in the future—she was a woman in the sexual prime of her life, and there was only so much mast***ation she could engage in. After a while, mast***ation felt empty. It met her need, but it was not the same as having a man above you. However, love was out of the picture. Romance was out of the picture. She didn’t have the time and she didn’t know if she had the heart anymore.
Sex with Brody Brown? Well, now, that wasn’t such a bad idea. She hadn’t dated in a million years, but she remembered enough to recognize the attraction in Brody’s eyes, the way he lingered, his gaze snagging on her mouth.
Enough of that for the moment! She’d turn into a puddle of goo if she kept thinking along those lines.
“Rennie, let’s get those groceries unloaded and then we’ll make dinner and you can call your grandmother before your bath.”
Rennie froze a moment, panic on her face. “No.”
Alarmed, Elise knelt before her daughter and took her hands. “Noodle? What’s wrong?”
Her normally good-natured daughter crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to. You can’t make me.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Take a bath? You’re a mess, you’ll feel better after you get all cleaned up.”
“I don’t want to call them. I don’t want to talk to her.”
Had Rennie and Martine had some sort of falling out? Rennie would have said, or her mother. Elise had just spoken to her mother the day before, and there had been no mention of a problem. “You never have to talk to Gran and Pops if you don’t want to. I thought you’d like to tell them about your day, but if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”
