Free When Bruce Met Cyn by Lori Foster

was going to say, the words were out. “I’d like to help.”
    Her soft mouth formed a crooked smile. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”
    Derision masked a lot of hurt, he knew. He warmed to the idea. “I could give you a job helping here at the church.”
    She stared at him, a little stunned, then gave a burst of surprised laughter. “Me, in a church? Now, wouldn’t that set the good people on their ears.”
    â€œYou’re a good person, Cyn.”
    â€œYou don’t even know me.”
    â€œI’m a good judge of character.”
    As if he were simple, she said succinctly, “I was a hooker.”
    â€œYou did what you had to do—you said so yourself.” Bruce leaned forward in his chair. “But no one knows what you did before coming here. No one has to know. Your business is your own.”
    â€œRight.” She drowned her pancakes in syrup.
    â€œReverend Thorne would disagree with you.”
    Bruce could feel himself tightening, but he kept his tone calm. “Who?”
    â€œReverend Thorne, this creepy, cleric guy I was taken to see, sort of like intervention.”
    â€œWhen was this?”
    â€œLong time ago, when I was a kid. You don’t think I’d have gone on my own, do you?” She snorted over the absurdity of that. “He said I look like a whore. Always have and always would. Something about my harlot’s soul manifesting itself in my appearance.”
    Bruce wasn’t a violent man under normal circumstances, but this wasn’t normal. If the reverend were here right now, Bruce would have happily beat him to a pulp.
    How dare a man, especially a man pretending to do God’s work, tell her such a cruel thing? How dare he emotionally abuse a young girl?
    Bruce’s hands curled into fists, but there was no anger in his voice when he spoke. “Thorne sounds like an idiot.”
    â€œYeah, I know. Stupid and mean. I’m not really sure what faith he was supposed to be, but he and Palmer got along great.”
    â€œPalmer?”
    Her lip curled. “Palmer Oaks. The guy my mother shacked with. Talk about colorful characters. Those two’d take the cake.”
    Emotion tightened his throat, and Bruce reached across the table to take her hand. “I haven’t known you long, but I already know without a single doubt that you’re a very intelligent young lady.”
    â€œDamn right—and thanks for noticing.”
    She was in a talkative mood this morning. Bruce hoped that meant she was beginning to feel at ease with him. “Modest, too.”
    That had her laughing. “Modest, smart, and strong. I don’t need any handouts. I can make it on my own. That’s the whole point.”
    â€œI understand that, and I commend you.” It was a typical response to proffered help, one he’d expected, especially from Cyn. “But that wasn’t what I meant.”
    â€œNo?”
    He hesitated, weighing his words. “As I said, you’re smart. You have to know that Thorne and Palmer were sick men. They’re not the norm. The world is filled with good people.”
    As if placating him, she said, “Like you?”
    â€œAnd you.” He laced his fingers with hers. He’d often made a point of offering physical contact, hand-holding, shoulder-rubbing, to help give comfort to the distraught.
    With Cyn, his motives were murky at best. He had a feeling that the physical contact was more for his benefit than for hers.
    â€œYou’re smart enough to know that the biggest step toward changing your life is talking to someone. Sharing the things that hurt you, that helped mold you. In order to move forward, you need to let the past go, and the best way to do that is to purge yourself of the memories.”
    â€œRight.” Her expression soured into cynicism.
    â€œYou wanna hear all the gruesome details, is that it?”
    Want to hear them? No. But he