He went stock-still. “It’s barely a ding. I’m fine.”
“Still, is it okay if I say you’ve got enough on your plate medically?”
“Not really.” He growled. Then gave her a begrudging smile. “But then I guess because of that full plate I barely notice this. Now can we drop the subject of the scratches on my back?”
Her mind winged back to other scratches on his back, ones left by her fingernails, the intensity of their sex wringing responses from her she’d never felt before or after.
Actually, she had no encounters after her surgery at all to go by. Showing her scarred body to a man had been a more difficult hurdle to overcome than she’d expected. She’d found it easier simply to focus on work. There was plenty of work to go around these days with conflicts all over the world.
One day blended into the next until suddenly here she was, five years later after her encounter at the bar with Rick and her mastectomy. Ready to face the rest of her life but suddenly having her foundation blown to bits again—literally.
Rick rubbed along his jaw. “You mentioned telling the police about the letters…” he continued like a dog with a bone.
“Of course. I told the cops at home about the third letter. These are copies.”
He stared at her and she stared back, sinking into the moment the way she’d done five years ago during their “say all the wrong things” fun moment and before she knew it her mouth was moving. “I want you to feel free to say no because this could really be dangerous. But I was thinking it might be in my best interest to have a man living under my roof right now.”
The minute the words fell out of her mouth she almost looked over her shoulder to see who’d said them. But yep. She’d been the one to voice the outrageous offer. She had most definitely said the wrong first date thing.
She desperately wanted to call the words back. Some maniac was trying to blow her up and now she’d done more to lure a watchdog of a man into her life? Rick had already been one foot on his way toward following her home. Now she would never shake him loose. She didn’t need or want this. She’d meant to say goodbye.
Right?
God. How convenient that there were four pretty walls nearby for her to bang her hard head against. The stalker must have been scaring her more than she’d been willing to admit.
“So, Rick? What do you think about my idea?” Maybe he would say no.
And maybe pigs would fly out of her ears.
He scratched along the back of his neck. “How about run it by me again, because I think my hearing’s gone bad.”
“Never mind. Forget about it.”
“Let me see if I follow. It goes something like this. After over a year in a hospital, I need a babysitter who won’t drive me crazy. You’re an independent soul, and I know you can kick any stalker’s butt. But having a man around can give off a first line of defense.”
Might as well go with it. “Kind of like having a dog with a loud bark.”
He picked at the rubber on the top of his crutch. “I’m not sure whether you’re complimenting or insulting me.”
“I’m not calling you a Chihuahua if that helps.” She grinned for the first time since she’d blurted the impulsive offer. “My garage has been converted into a studio apartment so you would have plenty of privacy. It’s a first floor, no stairs to worry about.”
Ooops. She could see his back getting up about her mentioning his injuries. Men could so miss the big picture. But then who was she to talk? She couldn’t bring herself to be with a man because she was wrapped up in her own self-image.
Time to help the man out. He’d obviously been through hell and she understood the bite of those flames well.
“People profile, and you’re a really big guy.” Ego stroke time. “A police dog?”
“You’re good at the suck-up game.” He surprised her with a half smile.
A really surprisingly cute half smile on that rugged big mug of his. She had trouble remembering what she planned to say and that was so not good.
So she grinned right back. She could do this. She was good at putting distance between herself and men, after all, she worked in an almost exclusively male environment. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not insinuating that we pick up where we left off five years ago.”
His smile went wider than hers. “You mean the point where I woke up in a bed by myself with a letter that said, ‘Thanks for a great weekend. Have a nice life.’”
Her smile faded, contrition biting. “The letter wasn’t that…uh…”
“Callous?”