Temper ignited. “I wasn’t involved.”
They both stared at each other, equally stunned by the outburst.
Rowdy couldn’t believe it when her mouth twitched.
As if to placate him, she patted his shoulder. “You’re scaring Cash.”
He glanced at the dog and saw Cash watching him...while still gnawing on his chew treat. The dog was attentive but not really worried.
He and Alice had that in common.
Fuck, f**k, f**k. Alice Appleton would make him insane in very little time.
He sucked in a breath, flexed his hands to loosen his fists and tried to get it together. In a much calmer voice, he asked, “Are you home for the rest of the night?”
Prim, composed, she folded her hands together. “Yes.”
Good. He started around her. “Reese should be here any minute now. Tell him everything. He deserves to know.”
Fleeing her insane effect on him, Rowdy started out. He didn’t want to yell at Alice. He didn’t want to dictate to her.
Damn it, how would anyone keep her safe when she had such disregard for her own hide?
Now she looked worried. “But...where are you going?”
“I have a late appointment with a real estate lawyer.” And after that, he’d head to the bar and find some feminine company, preferably Avery. With any luck, she’d help him expend pent-up energy in the best way known to man—through grinding hot sex.
“What?” Alice trotted after him. “Real estate? Why?”
Anxious to be gone, Rowdy opened the door. “I’m buying a bar.” He started out. “Lock this. And, so help me, Alice, you better stay put.”
He pulled the door shut, waited until he heard it lock then took the steps two at a time.
He’d give her the rest of the evening to talk with Reese—and then he’d share his own report. Poor Reese.
He might not know it yet, but Alice was about to turn his world upside down.
* * *
WITH ROWDY GONE, Alice’s courage faded, and she started shaking again. Talking with him had held off the aftereffects, giving her a different focus.
Now, it all came flooding back. That squalid little airless room, the soured breath of Hickson, how his body had flopped around while being Tasered...
Men had shown up right after she’d left.
What if she’d hesitated a little longer? What if Hickson had struggled or Cheryl had gotten more hysterical? She didn’t have enough tools in her bag to handle those circumstances.
Her composure fractured, and she covered her face. Memories of another time slithered over her, a time when she hadn’t helped anyone, not even herself.
She could never be that vulnerable again.
She needed to show more care, gain more skill. And maybe she should have called Reese. But he’d been far away, and she hadn’t known Rowdy was following her.
So, really, this was partly his fault. If he’d told her, maybe...probably not, but maybe she would have asked for Rowdy’s help.
She did trust Reese, both with issues of safety and with her heart. Not that she had a choice where her heart was concerned; he was far too appealing for her to keep any kind of distance.
Thinking of Reese took her along a natural course, imagining how he’d look when he returned, how he’d smell and feel and taste. She could really use a hug or two from him right now. Or a kiss.
Or...more.
Reese’s unique brand of comfort was like an exciting drug, buoying her confidence, making her feel prettier, braver, less guilty. Thoughts of him beat back the panic and uncertainty.
If he would just come home and smile at her, she could stop stressing over “what-ifs” and all the possible scenarios that might have taken place if things had gone wrong. She could concentrate on how to proceed, how to use what she’d learned to assist others.
How long she paced and fretted, she couldn’t say.
When Cash barked, she jumped a foot, then jumped again as a key sounded in the lock.
Reese.
Time for confessions. But first she had to somehow compose herself. She had to compartmentalize all the worries, sorting them to a corner of her brain as she’d learned to do to survive.
Should she bombard him with the day’s events first thing? Should she start by telling him about her past so that he’d better understand? Should she—
He unbuttoned his shirt as he stepped in, and he looked so good, so solid and safe and amazingly sexy, Alice knew what she wanted first, what she needed right now.
She needed Reese.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVEN WHILE BENDING to greet Cash, Reese noted Alice’s scrutiny.
And her scraped knee.
He nodded at her leg. “What happened there?”
Eyes dark and warm, she looked down at her knee. “It’s just a scratch.” Slicking her little tongue over her upper lip, she ogled him. “You’re taking off your shirt?”
“It’s hot as hell out there, and getting grilled has a way of making it worse.” But mostly it was hearing the details of Alice’s abduction that left him sweating.
They’d talked briefly after finishing the coffee, when Peterson had gotten a phone call. Logan had only uncovered what was in the press—which meant what Alice herself had shared. Sketchy details. A few names. A time frame.
Logan had also confirmed that Alice did, indeed, have CCPs in order for her weapons. Why does she need conceal and carry permits? He had a million questions for her, but mostly he wanted to hold her.
She inched closer. “It went okay?”