A tear slips down her cheek and I reach out to run my finger under it, catching it glittering in the light. “I’m sorry, Fee. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Don’t apologize for something that must have hurt like the devil.”
“It was hard to watch that’s for sure.” My appetite slips away and I eat the sandwich which tastes a little like sawdust now.
Her hand touches mine and I pause, staring. Her hand is so small and pale next to mine. My fingers curl around hers and there’s a sharp contrast between my tanned, calloused fingers and her slim, pale ones.
Looking up, I find myself lost in her changeable eyes. So soft and pretty, gray swirls, blue and green. A chameleon’s eyes.
Changeable as the sea and sky around me. The mountains in the sunlight and shadow. Always fascinating, always gorgeous.
“Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Where?” She breathes and my thumb rubs at hers, loving her soft skin and the feel of her so close to me. My dick jumps and I groan under my breath.
“How about Dexter’s? Less chance of being seen by my dad.”
Her eye twitches and then she relaxes, smiling briefly. “Sure. Why not?”
I gather my trash up and dump it in the can. “I’ll see you tonight then. Have a good day, Fee.”
“You too, Monroe.”
I can’t resist another look back at her at the door. She’s frowning down at her lap but then she glances up and smiles and the shadows in her eyes disappear.
I close the door and lean back against it. Do I know what I’m doing? Is she feeling the same things I’m feeling or is she playing me for some dark reason?
She is a Murphy woman. I need to remember that.
CHAPTER 7
Fiona
The bar’s not too busy tonight and I find a seat at the long slab of wood. Slipping onto the stool, I rap my knuckles on the wood and the bartender turns to me.
“What’s up, Fee? You’re not usually here during the week.”
“I’m meeting someone.”
“Okay. Well, what can I get you?”
“Can I get a wine cooler?”
The bartender laughs. “Still can’t handle the hard stuff, Fee?”
Rolling my eyes, I hook my purse over the back of the chair. “Yeah, yeah. Comes from being pocket-size I guess.”
“Most people wouldn’t admit to that.”
Grinning, I grab the bottle and take a swig, enjoying the icy fruit bite. “How am I going to hide the fact that I can barely see over the top of my steering wheel.”
He chuckles and drops a napkin in front of me and takes my card. Or tries to. Another hand pops up beside me and hands him a car. “The lady’s with me. I’ll take care of that,” a deep voice growls.
With a raised brow, he backs away and grunts. “Got it.”
Glancing over at the seat next to me, I grin. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing. Just guy stuff.”
