Free When She Wasn't Looking by Helenkay Dimon Page B

store and across from the former movie theater currently being renovated to reopen as a restaurant. She knew about the new place because she’d been commissioned to design a graphic for the sign and the wall behind the bar.
    She stared out the window at the construction truck in front of the building and let her mind wander. Jonas hadn’t asked a single question about her family or her name change since they left her house. He sat behind his desk, and his fingers clicked away with impressive speed across his keyboard.
    The silence wore her down. “You can say it, you know.”
    He didn’t look up. “What?”
    “Can we not pretend?” She’d spent so many years burying it. Maybe it was time to drag it into the light. “Please.”
    His fingers hovered over the keys. “You think I don’t want to know every detail of what happened?”
    “If you do you’re hiding it well.”
    His gaze moved to hers. His body relaxed back into the chair cushion, but awareness shimmered off of him. “I was trying to be considerate of your feelings.”
    “Is that your usual style?”
    He barked out a laugh. “No. I’ve become the rush-in type during recent years.”
    “What were you before?”
    The smile left his face. “Too careful. Too willing to follow the rules even when I knew they were wrong.”
    The easy conversation calmed the spinning in her head. With each husky word he said, the tension seeped from her muscles. “That sounds like experience talking.”
    “Years working in Los Angeles, so I earned it the hard way.”
    “Want to tell me about it?”
    “No.”
    “But I should spill, just tell you everything about my awful past?”
    “I’m guessing we can only handle one personal history at a time.”
    “Any chance we can start with you?”
    “Well.” He sat forward, leaning on his elbows. “We could, but no one is trying to kill me.”
    “I find that hard to believe.” After a stark beat of quiet, the rich sound of his laughter washed over her. Any last worries about being safe with him fled. “Admit it. You can be difficult.”
    “Bossy, demanding, controlling. Not the first time I’ve heard any of those.” He shrugged those wide shoulders. “I’d blame the job, but it’s probably the personality type.”
    “I can think of a few other words to describe you.”
    His gaze roamed over her face. “Where are your glasses?”
    “I put the contacts in.” And her left eye had been watering ever since.
    He made a tsk-tsk sound with his tongue. “Stubborn.”
    “You’re right. I am. Feel free to gloat.”
    The smile left his face. “I’d rather hear the story.”
    Icy-cold fingers reached into her chest and grabbed her heart. She had no one else to blame. She’d opened a door and he’d jogged right through it. Sharing terrified her…until she stared into those eyes, the color of the cloudy sky right before a storm, and the powerful tug of unburdening hit her.
    “It’s taking every ounce of control I possess not to go online and search for myself. With a few calls, I’d likely have the official version,” he said.
    “Why didn’t you?”
    “I want to hear it from you.” His expression remained unreadable as he laced his fingers together on top of his desk blotter. “I think maybe you need to say it.”
    The gate burst open before she could figure out a way to hold the words back. “Allen Peters.”
    “Your father, I’m guessing.”
    She nodded. “He was the type of guy who heard about a girl getting pregnant at the high school and grounded me to teach me a lesson.”
    Jonas’s eyebrow lifted. “A tough guy.”
    She almost laughed at the understatement. “He could yell for hours, or so it seemed. Everything is exaggerated when you’re a teenager, but I remember the house being loud.” She hated how the laughter faded but the angry words remained.
    “Where was your mother during all of this?”
    “She would coax him into the bedroom and shut the door, but the thick wood didn’t blunt the