Free Hurts So Good by Mallory Rush

wistful smile from her. Neil fought the urge to snatch the doll away and demand she smile for him instead. Good God, what had this woman done to him? Actually reducing him to a jealous fit over a doll, when Christine's betrayal had only summoned his self-disgust for having married her.
    "Go away, Neil," Andrea said evenly. "I can see myself home. We're through talking for the night."
    "Apparently, you can see yourself home. But we're not through talking by a long shot. What's eating you?"
    "You, that's what, and—"
    "You folks need any help?" the shop clerk asked. "We close in five minutes."
    "How much for the doll?" Andrea's polite tone, the one she used with everyone but him, made him madder—and he was already chewing nails.
    "Sixty dollars. But I'll make it fifty for you."
    "Will that price still be good next week?"
    The man looked from her to the doll she gently stroked. "I'll give you two weeks, how's that?"
    As Neil watched her reluctantly replace it on the shelf, he felt his anger cool. The urge to buy every dumb doll in the place for her was strong, but she'd already thrown one present back in his face. He didn't care to get pelted by a slew of flying porcelain.
    Andrea expressed her thanks to the clerk, then brushed past Neil. He tossed the spurned T-shirt to the man and muttered, "Hang on to that doll. I'll be back for it tomorrow."
    She didn't get far before he gripped her arm and spun her around to face him. Her cat-green eyes all but hissed up at him where they stood in the middle of the blocked-off street.
    "I've got my beef, and you've got yours," he stated bluntly. "Only you know what mine is, and I'm still waiting to hear yours. Spit it out."
    If there was anything she wanted to spit out, it was him. Spit him out of her system and fulfill her original mission.
    "I reached out to you, Neil, offered my understanding. But you're afraid to let anyone get too close, aren't you? It threatens you. So what do you do? You reduce everything to money and power plays. You're a control monster, that's what you are. Well, you don't control me, buster. No ones does."
    "And that doesn't make you a control monster too? Like recognizes like. Two peas in a pod, if you ask me."
    "I'm not asking you," she said defensively. "But I am telling you something. If you ever try to manhandle me like that again, you'll be singing soprano permanently. Got it?"
    "You mean you don't like it too frisky in the boudoir?"
    "See? You're doing it again! No wonder your wife said all those horrible things about you." Her voice faltered as his eyes squinted meanly and his face turned ominously dark. Still, she plunged on, "A smart man knows that the quickest way to a woman's bed is through her heart and mind. Please keep that fact in mind for future reference," she added, imitating his drawl.
    He muttered something that sounded like "the Vow" before he looked away. Then, as if drawn back against his will, he looked her full in the face and tightened his grip.
    "I know the facts just fine, thank you, ma'am. Now I've got a few for you. It just so happens my ex-wife taught me to stay out of a woman's head and never get near her heart, 'cause a man could lose himself in there. And once he does, he's left wide open for a she-cat attack—not to mention her taking a swipe out of his bankroll."
    Andrea didn't want to soften inside, but she did. She wanted to wrap herself around him and beg him to let her undo the damage another woman had done. Instead, she stared mutely into his now-cold eyes.
    Taking a deep breath, she touched his cheek and felt him jerk. As she stroked, he subtly relaxed.
    "I shouldn't have said that about your ex-wife. That was a low blow and totally inexcusable. For her to have hurt you so deeply... well, you must have loved her very much."
    "No love lost between strangers, chere. Kids make stupid mistakes, and Christine was one of my bigger ones. Much as I like to put all the blame on her, I can't. She dangled the bait, and I