Free Immortal Healer by Elizabeth Finn Page A

ridiculously expensive pouncing cat on the display screen of the center console panel. She was trying hard not to let her embarrassment push her over the top while he acted like the cool cat he was.
     
     
    *
     
     
     
    He drove without speaking. He was letting her deal with her embarrassment. The sky was overcast, and he was comfortable. He didn’t want to take her home to the council building yet. He was enjoying her too much, and so he steered them toward Cambridge. They weren’t far, and rather than clue her into their destination, he ignored her. Her eyes started to flash toward him when she realized they weren’t headed back the way they came, and he continued to say nothing.
    When he pulled into the parking garage, she finally spoke. “Where are we? Do I have another appointment or…” She looked confused.
    “No.” And he ignored her some more as she studied the side of his face.
    He opened her door for her once they’d found a parking spot and took her hand, leading her to the nearby elevator. She didn’t pull away, and he didn’t even think of letting go of her hand. When the doors opened to the Rooftop Garden, her mouth dropped open for a moment.
    “I’d forgotten all about this place.” She smiled. Her teeth were straight, white and her smile was incredible. He wasn’t sure he’d actually seen a real smile from her before, and his heart stilled for a second at the sight. But her eyes shifted from his quickly when she realized just how carefree she’d allowed herself to get for a moment, as though being young and happy was somehow against the rules in her mind. He squeezed her hand as they started to stroll.
    When he stopped and sat on a bench, she sat too, and her heart started to pound. She was so damn nervous with him. His hold on her hand wasn’t overtly sexual—intimate perhaps, but he wasn’t trying to scare her. But as they sat, and she met his eyes, she let her fingers slip away from his, letting her gaze settle on his chest.
    He had no intention of letting her get away with being shy with him. “I want you to see a psychologist.”
    “No.” She didn’t bother to wait for him to finish speaking.
    “Abby, you can’t possibly think you wouldn’t benefit from—”
    “No.” She was going to have to say something other than that damn word.
    “Why don’t you want—”
    “No.” He could feel his jaw tense at her stubbornness. Quentin wasn’t used to people being stubborn. He was used to making decisions and seeing it done.
    “Say that word one more time, and you’re going to upset me.” Could she possibly?
    “I don’t need to see another fucking shrink. I get it. PTSD. Fine. Fuck it.”
    “How about you remove ‘no’ and ‘fuck’ from your vocabulary with me? Huh?” He was frustrated, and he was having a hard time masking it. He didn’t bring her here to argue. He took a deep, steadying breath before opening his mouth again. “What do you think you’d like to do once you’re through your court case?”
    She studied him for a moment before taking her own deep breath. “You mean provided I don’t end up in jail?”
    “I don’t want to see you end up in jail, but it could happen. But it doesn’t really matter. You should have some idea what you’d like to do even after you get out of jail, should that be the case. Some long term goal?”
    She looked nervous, embarrassed. She had something to say. He could see it by the unsure expression on her face, but it was hard for her to spit the words out. “I don’t know.” She was lying.
    “Yes you do.”
    She let out a deep sigh as she rolled her eyes. “Umm … I guess … maybe school again.” Her eyebrows were up as she waited for his response. It wasn’t up to him, of course, and she wasn’t asking his permission, but he liked that she cared what he thought.
    “Definitely. The same field as before?”
    “Yeah. I liked it. I was good at it.”
    He stared at her as his brow wrinkled. He’d never quite