The cop in me wants to holler at her for not being more careful. “You should have called for help not come out here looking for trouble. Especially without a weapon or a phone.”
Her eyes flash molten and she growls. “Yeah. Now I remember why I don’t like you!”
She plops down on the floor and I settle on the floor a few feet from her.
Her face is turned away and she crosses her arms, fury radiating off of her.
This is going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 3
Fiona
It’s so quiet in here you could hear water running if there was any running. Instead, it’s just quiet. Snow swirls down outside the door and front windows and I shiver, wishing I had my coat. I know it’s not any colder than it was ten minutes ago but for some reason, not being able to move much and watching all that snow….it just feels colder.
“Did you ever manage to get out of here?” He asks.
I don’t even bother looking at him. “Unlike you, I really like my home. Storyville is perfect to me.”
Huffing, he fidgets and I see his booted foot moving in my Peripheral vision. The hiking boot is worn and comfortable-looking. And strangely exciting.
I think I’ve lost my damn mind. There is no way that a shoe is masculine and exciting.
“You know, maybe we could call a truce for tonight and just talk. I mean, I know what you think about me and my family. You know what I think about you. So maybe we could just talk. Otherwise, we might have a very uncomfortable and boring night.”
Do you think that you can keep it civil?” I huff.
“I can if you can.”
“Okay.” Pausing, I put one arm down and turn towards him, my eyes drifting down to the way his worn jeans showcase his firm, muscular thighs. His dark eyes are fixed on me and I find myself trying not to look directly into them. I have a weird feeling that I could get lost in them for a long time. He even has long, thick dark lashes that make me want to curse the entity that gave them to him. I have to wear mascara to get eyelashes that look that good!
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. What happened with your parents? Why aren’t they here?”
My mind freezes remembering that painful night. Turning, I pick at my pale blue cardigan. “They passed away,” I whisper softly, my throat clogging up with tears.
I still can’t think about that night without crying. Sniffling, I put my head on my pulled-in knees.
“I’m sorry. My dad never really mentioned you guys. I didn’t know.”
“That’s alright.”
“It’s not. I’m really sorry…”. He stops and my head pops up. There’s something soft in his eyes that I don’t think I’ve ever seen in a Stephens’ man’s eyes.
“Ummm. I didn’t even ask your name earlier. I’m really an ass.” He chuckles and warmth curls in my belly again, my legs pulling in tight trying to hide whatever’s going on. His laugh is so deep and husky. Sexy.
Scary.
“It’s Fiona. But my friends call me Fee.”
“Can I call you Fee? I’m not sure we’re friends but….”
“How about you can call me Fee tonight?”
“Fair enough.”
“So…Fee. How old are you?”
