Free If You Hear Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense by Shiloh Walker Page B

with.”
    “Yeah. Over and done with.” He hesitated a second and asked softly, “Friends?”
    A deprecating smile curved her lips. “Friends. Sure. Why the hell not?”
    Shit, what a fucking mess
. Ezra absently rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest. The forlorn, tired expression on her face did bad, bad things to him. He’d backed away from her after one fucking date because she made him feel things he knew he wasn’t in any shape to feel—not while his head was still so screwed up over Mac.
    Don’t think about that right now
, he told himself. It was the last thing he needed—the absolute last thing he needed.
    “I had some idiot kids out joyriding on my property last night, did some damage. Came in here to file a report on it. What brings you in here?” he asked.
    Lena grimaced. “Don’t ask.”
    “Too late. Already did.” He’d heard some of it … and it hadn’t settled that well. Screaming. She’d heard somebody screaming. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
    “Why?” Lena asked wearily. What in the hell did he care? Shifting in the chair, she crossed her legs and listened as Ezra moved across the linoleum floor, his footfalls a bare whisper. If it wasn’t for the faint unevenness she detected in his gait, and those rubber-soled tennis shoes squeaking on the linoleum, she doubted she would have heard him at all. “What does it matter what I’m doing here?”
    “Isn’t that kind of what friends do? Ask how the other is doing?”
    Friends. Lena curled her hand into a fist and tried not to think about the knot of disappointment that had settled somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. He hadn’t called because … what was it again?
    Irritated all over again, she started to tap her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Look, you know what, Ezra? Idon’t think friends will work. I’ve got plenty of friends. If you’re here to get your head on straight, fine. You do that. But you don’t need some mock ‘friendship’ with me to do that. So you can shelve the mock concern, too.”
    Ezra was silent for five seconds, but she could feel the intensity of his stare, all but burning into her. “Did it occur to you for even five seconds that I could have just walked away when I saw you in here? I didn’t need to come over here. Didn’t need to humiliate myself and admit to anybody—much less a beautiful woman that I’m seriously attracted to—that I’m a total asshole.”
    “And exactly when did you humiliate yourself?”
    “Oh, fuck it,” he muttered, shoving upright. He started to pace, but the muscles in his leg decided he wasn’t going to pace and the leg tried to buckle under him. Swallowing the groan of pain, he slammed a hand down on the table and managed, just barely, to stay on his feet.
    “Ezra?”
    Blood roared in his ears and he barely heard her soft voice above it. His heart raced in his chest and a cold sweat broke out all over him. Carefully, he eased his weight back against the table—it was either that or end up on the floor. Breathing shallowly, he waited for the wave of pain to pass and that was when he realized Lena was on her feet and moving closer.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Fine,” he gritted out.
    She brushed her hand against his arm. Ezra nudged her away and said, “I’m fine.”
    “No, you’re not. You’re sweating. What’s wrong with you?”
    “Nothing,” he bit off. Sourly, he added, in an echo of her earlier question, “What does it matter?”
    She scowled. “Are you sick?”
    “No.” Snagging a chair, he spun it around and used the table and his good leg to maneuver himself into it.“Look, I messed my leg up a few months ago. Acts up sometimes. Pushed myself too hard yesterday and now I’m paying for it. That’s all.”
    “What … what did you do?”
    With a dry laugh, he said, “Careful, Lena. You’re almost acting like a concerned friend there, you know.”
    “Jackass.” She glared at him and then sighed, returning to her