New Year's Eve

I scowled. “You’re not the boss of me, Joe.”

He was silent so long, I finally looked at him.

And wished I hadn’t.

Excitement scored through me at the heat in his eyes and the obvious way he was fighting it. The muscle in his jaw ticked before he yanked his gaze away from me. His voice was gruff, almost hoarse. “You’re not leaving here until I get answers.”

Indignation killed the excitement. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Cut the crap, Ryan.” He glared at me before crossing the room toward the kitchen. “A woman I care about fainted and she has a fucking black eye. Of course I want to know what happened?”

I followed him into the kitchen. I tried not to react to him saying he cared about me and failed. My tone was softer now. “Joe, it was nothing. And I don’t want you making a big deal out of it because I don’t want Shaw to know.”

He contemplated me. Then surprised me. “Coffee? Bacon roll?”

Both sounded great. I slid onto a stool at the island. “Yes, please.”

“Good. And you can tell me what happened while I make breakfast.”

“Technically, it’s lunch.”

He cut me another look.

“Or brunch,” I muttered with a shrug, staring out the side door at the kitchen. Beyond it were snow dusted trees, providing privacy between us and the neighbors. “My sister isn’t here, is she?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“Nope. They changed their minds a few days ago. Said Shaw wasn’t feeling too great.”

My sister had lied to me and Joe to get us at this cabin alone. Together. “You know this wasn’t an accident, right? My sister did this to us deliberately. What was she thinking?”

“Shaw later. You first.”

I watched Joe move around the kitchen as he made the coffee, trying and failing to ignore the way his long-sleeved tee molded to every inch of his perfect body. I thought about him unzipping my jeans last night when I was out for the count. Of him tugging them off and then rummaging through my luggage for my pajama shorts. Of him pulling the shorts up my legs. He must have seen my underwear. I tried to remember what pair I was wearing and couldn’t.

Oh well.

I shifted as renewed heat flooded between my legs.

I so wish I’d been awake for that moment so I could have studied Joe’s face.

Had he liked what he’d seen?

“Well?” he asked impatiently as he slid a coffee across the island toward me.

I took a bolstering sip and then stopped at the realization he knew exactly how I took my coffee. This was Joe. So I was inappropriately attracted to the man, and I’d thrown myself at him when I was drunk. But he was still Joe.

As much as it scared me to rely on anyone, he was my friend.

I met his dark gaze. He was worried about me. It was plain to see. “Promise not to tell Shaw.”

He frowned. “I don’t like keeping secrets.”

“Considering the high possibility that the little busybody is trying to play matchmaker with us, I wouldn’t be too concerned about keeping secrets from her.”

Joe gave a huff of unamused laughter. “Right.”

I took another sip of coffee. Remembering Christmas Day set off a spark of unwanted adrenaline. My hand shook around the mug and I lowered it quickly.

Joe caught the movement anyway. “Hey,” his voice was soothing as he reached out to cover my hand with his. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He held my gaze. “Gotta admit you’re scaring me a little, baby.”

I shivered at the pet name he’d never used with me before. It was so intimate. Something a lover might call me. And I stupidly wanted to launch myself across the island and into his brawny arms. Instead, I slipped my hand out from beneath his and dropped it in my lap. Staring at the counter, unable to look at him now, I shrugged. “I’m making a bigger deal out of it than it was.”

“Ry, I’m losing patience here. I got a million ugly things going through my head right now, and I need to know that I’m wrong about all of them.”

“Sorry.” I forced myself to look at him. “I’m not used to anyone but Shaw caring.”

That seemed to piss him off even more. “Well, I care. I care a fucking lot.”

“Joe…” I shrugged, helpless against his concern. “Christmas Day. After I left early… when I got home, my door was ajar and the lock broken. And I was stupid. I was so stupid.” I shook my head at myself. Everything they tell you not to do, I did. “I went into the apartment and there was a guy in my bedroom. He was high, had a garbage bag filled with my stuff… but he had,” my eyes filled with tears, “He was going through my jewelry box and he had my mom’s locket in his hand. I didn’t think. I just went for him. We grappled and we found ourselves in the living room. I pushed him into the tree and when he got back up, he charged me and we fell into the glass coffee table.”