“What in hell are you apologizing for? It’s an irritating habit.”
“I’m... working on it.”
“One minute we’re riding along, easy as you please, and I’m thinking, well then, we’ll have dinner and see how that goes. The next, you’re reaping a bloody whirlwind.”
He shoved up, snatched his plate and hers. Which was too bad, she thought, as she’d had a couple more chips, and would’ve eaten them.
“If you don’t want me to apologize, don’t yell at me.”
“I’m not yelling at you.”
“Who then?”
“No one. I’m just yelling. A man can express himself as he pleases in his own house.”
“Nobody ever yelled in my house.”
“What?” He looked genuinely astonished. “Were you reared in a church?”
She laughed again. “I think, maybe—if I go by your gauge—nobody cared enough to yell. Do you care, Boyle?”
“I care you’re not lying on the ground out there with your throat torn out.” He cursed himself as her color slid away. “Now I’m sorry. Truly. I’ve the devil’s own tongue when I’m in a temper. I’m sorry,” he repeated, and put his hands gently on her face to cup it. “You were so fierce. I don’t know what turned me more around. The wolf or you.”
“We came through it. That means a lot.” She put her hands over his. “And you made me dinner, you let me settle before you let it rip. That means a lot, too.”
“Then we’re all right, all right enough for now.”
He touched his lips to hers, gentle this time. And her hands slid to his wrists, tightened.
“I should take you home now.” He eased back, but she kept her hands on his wrists.
“I don’t want you to take me home. I want to stay with you.”
“You’re still turned around.”
“Do I look turned around?”
He managed to step back, a foot away. “Maybe I’m turned around.”
“I don’t mind that.” She rose. “I might even like it. We won a battle, Boyle, together. I want to be with you, to hold on to you, to go to bed with you.”
“I think... the sensible thing is to take some time, to talk about that before... that.”
“I thought I was the one who talked too much.” She took a step toward him, then another.
“You do, Jesus, you do. But I think, under the circumstances... We’ll talk later,” he said, and grabbed her.
“Perfect,” she said, and grabbed him back.
13
HER FEET LEFT THE FLOOR AGAIN, A GIDDY SENSATION WITH HER MOUTH PRESSED TO HIS. He had a hand fisted on the back of her sweater as if he might rip it away at any second, which would have suited her just fine. If she could have managed it, she’d have wiggled right out of the sweater—and everything else.
“We need to—” Whatever he’d meant to say slid away as her mouth came back, avidly, to his.
“Where’s the bedroom?” It had to be close, and if not, the saggy couch looked more than adequate.
“It’s...” He tried to think through the hot haze in his brain, then just gripped her ass, gave her a boost. She hooked her legs around his waist as her arms chained around his neck.
