Free Billi Jean by Running Scared Page A
Authors: Running Scared
type of man that would simply be satisfied with a kiss or two. He glanced at her, then, and she blushed. No doubt he’d caught her staring.
“And?”
“And?”
“You were going tell me why you ended up in Troy, Montana.”
She handed him the first screw. “I was?”
He didn’t look at her but, from beside him, she could see his lip curl up at her teasing.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t know yet?” she asked instead. Irene was a gossip. And her husband was too.
Russ gave her another quick look and took another screw. “I might have heard a bit. But I like to hear it from the source.”
She laughed at that, and he did, too. He had a soft, deep chuckle. Wouldn’t you know it? All masculine, and no doubt meant to make her more at ease. He seemed to think he had to walk on eggshells with her. She’d noticed that about him, and wondered suddenly if she made him as nervous as he made her. He didn’t look it. How could anyone make him nervous? He was trained for battle—had been in battle, she corrected herself. Her making him nervous didn’t add up.
“All right, I moved here because I thought a change would be good. My dad passed away recently and this is”—different? Bizarre? Miserable?—“as far from that as I could come up with. Except maybe Australia,” she added, to soften the mood. She didn’t want to talk about her dad with Russ. It was too intimate. And she didn’t want to lie, and she’d have to lie if she said more. “Now, is that it? Because, if it is, that is seriously unfair.” It had taken him less than five minutes to undo her mistake and put the lock back in.
“Sorry about your dad. It sounds like you two were close.”
Close? She was not going there with this big man. She didn’t know him, she reminded herself. “Yep, we were. Now, is that really all it took?”
He gave her a long, steady, grey-eyed stare. Slowly standing, he lifted her up as well with a hand on hers. Without letting go, he nodded. God, his hand was strong and warm.
“That was it. Now, ready to set that timer?”
She tried to take her hand back, but he didn’t let go.
“I don’t hit on women, Sunshine, but I’m not backing down. I might not know how to flirt, but with you? I think I just might have to learn.”
Whoa . A breath escaped her lips, sounding way too much like a sigh. She licked her lips nervously, and suddenly Russell was almost on top of her. She shifted a hand up to press against his chest, and he froze. A heartbeat later, he nodded slightly. Another shiver hit her stomach and raced through her veins.
Oh, my. She wanted to kiss him. Let everything go, forget it all and kiss him until she couldn’t remember her name, or her past. The attack, her father’s death, her being in hiding, this house that wasn’t her home, everything. Only, everything would all be there afterwards, wouldn’t it? Even if they ended up in bed, it would all be there when he was gone. And somehow she knew it would be that much worse, afterwards.
“The lock. You set that timer. Then maybe change and we’ll do that burger, right?” He sounded so confident she almost missed the note of loneliness in his tone. For once, his grey eyes reflected hesitancy under the outer persona of bold, secure warrior. Maybe he was nervous around her. She wasn’t sure, but she recognised the loneliness in his eyes. She could see it—a kinship, sorta.
Somehow, Russell made her feel braver, she realised. More herself. She used to make men nervous. She used to drive the MPs crazy. And some of her dad’s friends, too. She used to flirt and tease and skip away without a problem. But she’d always had her dad, too. He’d always managed to keep the guys at bay, provided that buffer they weren’t willing to cross. Not that she’d have let them.
But she was tempted—oh, God, she was more than tempted with Russell. She could admit that. And there was no one to fall back on. To guide her. And that plain sucked, because part of
“And?”
“And?”
“You were going tell me why you ended up in Troy, Montana.”
She handed him the first screw. “I was?”
He didn’t look at her but, from beside him, she could see his lip curl up at her teasing.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t know yet?” she asked instead. Irene was a gossip. And her husband was too.
Russ gave her another quick look and took another screw. “I might have heard a bit. But I like to hear it from the source.”
She laughed at that, and he did, too. He had a soft, deep chuckle. Wouldn’t you know it? All masculine, and no doubt meant to make her more at ease. He seemed to think he had to walk on eggshells with her. She’d noticed that about him, and wondered suddenly if she made him as nervous as he made her. He didn’t look it. How could anyone make him nervous? He was trained for battle—had been in battle, she corrected herself. Her making him nervous didn’t add up.
“All right, I moved here because I thought a change would be good. My dad passed away recently and this is”—different? Bizarre? Miserable?—“as far from that as I could come up with. Except maybe Australia,” she added, to soften the mood. She didn’t want to talk about her dad with Russ. It was too intimate. And she didn’t want to lie, and she’d have to lie if she said more. “Now, is that it? Because, if it is, that is seriously unfair.” It had taken him less than five minutes to undo her mistake and put the lock back in.
“Sorry about your dad. It sounds like you two were close.”
Close? She was not going there with this big man. She didn’t know him, she reminded herself. “Yep, we were. Now, is that really all it took?”
He gave her a long, steady, grey-eyed stare. Slowly standing, he lifted her up as well with a hand on hers. Without letting go, he nodded. God, his hand was strong and warm.
“That was it. Now, ready to set that timer?”
She tried to take her hand back, but he didn’t let go.
“I don’t hit on women, Sunshine, but I’m not backing down. I might not know how to flirt, but with you? I think I just might have to learn.”
Whoa . A breath escaped her lips, sounding way too much like a sigh. She licked her lips nervously, and suddenly Russell was almost on top of her. She shifted a hand up to press against his chest, and he froze. A heartbeat later, he nodded slightly. Another shiver hit her stomach and raced through her veins.
Oh, my. She wanted to kiss him. Let everything go, forget it all and kiss him until she couldn’t remember her name, or her past. The attack, her father’s death, her being in hiding, this house that wasn’t her home, everything. Only, everything would all be there afterwards, wouldn’t it? Even if they ended up in bed, it would all be there when he was gone. And somehow she knew it would be that much worse, afterwards.
“The lock. You set that timer. Then maybe change and we’ll do that burger, right?” He sounded so confident she almost missed the note of loneliness in his tone. For once, his grey eyes reflected hesitancy under the outer persona of bold, secure warrior. Maybe he was nervous around her. She wasn’t sure, but she recognised the loneliness in his eyes. She could see it—a kinship, sorta.
Somehow, Russell made her feel braver, she realised. More herself. She used to make men nervous. She used to drive the MPs crazy. And some of her dad’s friends, too. She used to flirt and tease and skip away without a problem. But she’d always had her dad, too. He’d always managed to keep the guys at bay, provided that buffer they weren’t willing to cross. Not that she’d have let them.
But she was tempted—oh, God, she was more than tempted with Russell. She could admit that. And there was no one to fall back on. To guide her. And that plain sucked, because part of