Diaz pointed to Spencer.
Jessie shrugged. “I’ll be careful, and I’ll be with you. Plus, forewarned is forearmed, right?”
“No, Jess. You won’t be going, and that’s final.”
“Bullshit.” Her gaze narrowing on him, Jessie said, “I don’t think I need to remind you that we’re on assignment. Look what happened to Spence. First, we should ride as a couple, and second, it’s not safe for any of us to go off alone, including you. Quit trying to act as my protector. I’m a Wild Rider, too. Start treating me like one.”
Spence snorted. Diaz shot him a look.
“Sorry, but she has a point.”
Diaz felt his control unraveling. He couldn’t do this—couldn’t be Jessie’s lover and her boss. His blood boiled with the need to lash out. He had to get out of here. He turned to Jessie, his hands clenched into fists.
“This situation is exactly why this . . . we . . . are not going to work.”
He turned and walked out of the room before he did something incredibly stupid, like admitting how much he cared for her.
JESSIE STARED OPENMOUTHED AT THE DOOR DIAZ HAD JUST exited. She walked over to it, watching him stride with purposeful anger through the lodge and out the front door. She shut the bedroom door and went back to Spence’s bedside.
Spencer wore a cockeyed grin on his face.
“What the hell are you smiling about? Did you just see that?”
“Yeah.” Spence laced his fingers behind his head. “Damned entertaining, too.”
Jess fell into the chair and shook her head. “I don’t get it. He was pissed. Really angry. At me.”
“Yeah.”
She glanced at up at Spence. “Why?”
“Because he’s in love with you, dork.”
“In love . . .” She rocketed out of the chair. “Are you insane? He is not!”
Spence’s grin widened. “Yeah, he is. And he has no f**king idea how to handle it, so he’s dealing with it in typical Diaz fashion. He’s angry, confused, and f**king it up.”
She looked at the door, back at Spence, then sat again. Her heart did a little flip. Diaz was in love with her? Could that be true?
No. Spence was way off base. “He’s been telling me in a hundred different ways why the two of us could never work.”
Spence gave her a lopsided grin. “Honey, he’s trying to convince himself, not you. He’s scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of you. Of commitment. Of a relationship. Mainly, he’s afraid of loving someone and ending up hurting them.”
“Like his father did to his mother.”
“Yeah. A few of us came from abusive families, so we know the drill. It’s hard to step out of that circle of violence untainted, hard to feel like that evil doesn’t follow you. Diaz thinks he’s going to end up like his dad, just because he has a temper, too.”
“He would never hurt me. He doesn’t have it in him. I push his buttons all the time. Aggravate him, irritate him, drive him right to the edge. I’ve never seen any signs of him lashing out at me. He’s been amazingly patient with me.”
“I don’t think he’s anything like his dad. But try and tell him that and he’ll disagree.”
“So what do I do?”
Spence shrugged. “I’m the last guy to give love advice, sweet pea. It’s not really my thing. But I say if you care about him, you’ll just have to convince him that the two of you belong together.”
Wasn’t that what she’d been trying to do all this time? She cared about him. She always had. But this time they’d spent together, having the chance to get to know him—really get to know the person he was, the way he treated her—she knew she wanted him in her life.
But Diaz was one hardheaded male. Trying to talk him into having an honest to God relationship with her—actually staying together beyond this assignment—was going to be tougher than the mission.
Apparently he’d decided sex was just fine between them, at least as long as the mission lasted. She had a feeling as soon as this case was over, he was going to give her “the talk.” The one about how they worked together and couldn’t have a relationship. Or how his past tainted him somehow, and he didn’t want to hurt her.
She was going to have to be prepared for that conversation, because she was just as stubborn as he was, and she’d already decided that Diaz wasn’t going to get rid of her.
She was going to keep him, whether he liked it or not.
And she might as well start right now, by tracking him down and figuring out what bug crawled up his ass, then doing her best to calm him down.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked Spence.
“Yeah.” He yawned. “I’m beat. I need to sleep this all off and I’ll be ready to go tomorrow.”
“Yeah, right. You’ll be going nowhere tomorrow.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?” He winked.
She shook her head, kissed his forehead, and turned out the light, closing the door behind her. She asked Mark to keep everyone out of his room—meaning Stephanie, who Jessie was certain would keep Spence up all night either talking his ear off or wanting to have sex. Mark said he’d make sure no one got in.
She headed out of the lodge and down the road toward the cabin, hoping she’d find Diaz there. He was sitting on the chair they’d occupied earlier tonight. Her body pulsed with heat as she recalled the two of them together on that chair.
How could a man filled with so much warmth, so much passion, ever worry about hurting her? Didn’t he recognize his own feelings toward her?
Probably not. Sometimes men needed a good slap upside the head.
She didn’t sit next to him, instead opting to lean against the railing across from him.
“Finished having your tantrum?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.
He arched one beautiful dark brow. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. What was that about up there?”
He looked past her toward the lodge. “Nothing. Forget about it.”
“Well, that’s communicative.”
“Sometimes I don’t want to talk, Jess.”
“That’s right. Sometimes you want to avoid topics. Especially if the topic is you and me.”
His gaze shot to hers. “There is no you and me. Don’t you understand that?”
“Oh, quit being so noble and playing the Beauty and the Beast card. It’s bullshit, Diaz.” She walked past him and opened the back door into the house.
As she suspected, he followed.
“Beauty and the Beast?”
“Yeah. You’re the poor misunderstood beast, all mean and feisty. And I’m the tender beauty who sees past the monster in you, but you’re still afraid to care for me.” She rolled her eyes. “Please. It’s an old tale and it doesn’t apply to you. You’re human, not a beast. You’ll make mistakes, I’ll make mistakes. But I never figured you for a coward.”
“I’m no coward.”
His voice had gone low. That meant he was angry, trying to maintain his control. Good. At least she had his attention now.
She turned to face him. “Aren’t you? You’re too afraid to even attempt to have a relationship with me. If that isn’t cowardice, then what is it? And if you tell me one more time that you’re trying to protect me, I’m going to kick you straight in the balls.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then damn if the corners didn’t lift into the hint of a smile. “Maybe I should be afraid of you. Christ, woman, you’re feisty when you’re angry.”
“Yes, maybe you should be afraid of me, Diaz, because I don’t like being told how I should and shouldn’t feel. And I don’t need protecting. I haven’t needed protecting since I was fifteen years old. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m an adult now. A woman. And I have feelings, goddammit. Why don’t you try noticing how I feel about you?”
“How do you feel about me, Jess?”
“I love you! Are you some kind of idiot that you can’t figure that out on your own?”
Okay, so that had come out in a fit of anger. Probably not her best declaration of love, but she’d said it. It was out there. Ball was in his court now. What was he going to do with it?
He stared up at her with a shocked expression on his face.
She’d laugh if this entire situation wasn’t so utterly pathetic. “You had no idea, did you?” How could he not know? Wasn’t it obvious? Wasn’t she obvious?
He wavered there on his feet for a few seconds, his hands jammed in his pockets. She started toward him.
“Don’t,” he said.
She stopped.
“Don’t love me, Jess.”
Her chest tightened. “It doesn’t work that way, Diaz. You can’t tell someone not to care about you.”
“I can’t give you what you need.”
“Yes, you can.”
He shook his head. “It won’t work. I’m not the kind of guy you want.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Maybe he just needed a little push, a little convincing . . .
“I don’t . . . I don’t have the same feelings for you.”
And just like that, the squeezing in her chest exploded. She’d heard the words he’d said but didn’t want to believe them. And yet they echoed over and over in her thick skull, finally tearing through.
Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them back, refusing to cry, refusing to fall apart like a child. She’d told him she was an adult, a woman, that she was tough.
Well, she was. She was going to stand there and take his rejection, even though she was shattering inside. Because there was nothing she could say in response to that.
He didn’t love her. Spence had been wrong. She had been wrong.
Now she understood. Diaz had enjoyed the sex between them, but that had been it. Maybe he did care about her, but he didn’t love her. Nothing was going to make him change his mind.
She inhaled and nodded. “Okay, then.”
“I’m sorry, Jess.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. She was going to lose it. “It’s cold out here. I’m going to bed.”
“Wait.”
“No. I’m through waiting.” She brushed past him and walked into the house, shutting the door, swiping at the tears running down her cheeks.
She barely made it to the bathroom, closing and locking the door before the waterworks started in a rush. She turned the faucet on full force so Diaz wouldn’t be able to hear her sobs.
FOURTEEN
NO SLEEP. DIAZ HADN’T GOTTEN EVEN A MINUTE OF IT LAST night.
Between his own guilt and the crying Jessie had tried to hide from him, he couldn’t even think about sleeping. He’d heard her through the walls, and it was like a knife tearing into his gut. He’d caused her pain, the one thing he swore he didn’t want to do.
So he’d stayed outside, huddled up in the chair, the blanket his only warmth.
Why? Because he was an A number one asshole, and the biggest liar.
Jessie had bared her soul to him last night. What had it taken for her to share her feelings like she had? God, she was so brave. And what he had done when faced with the truth? He’d lied to her. He’d acted like an utter pussy, had turned tail and run like hell.
What he’d done to her was unforgivable. Because he did love her. Everything inside him had screamed to tell her. The words hovered on his lips as soon as she’d said them to him. It would have been so easy.
And so wrong.
So he’d lied, told her he didn’t love her back. And he’d destroyed her. He’d seen it on her crestfallen face, could almost feel her crushing pain. He felt it all night long.
He should never have touched her, should have stayed aloof and away from her from the start. That would have been the best way to handle the situation. She was young. He was older, more experienced. He could have let her down easily, told her that he wasn’t interested, before things had ever gotten started between them. Instead, he’d touched her, loved her, gotten inside her physically as well as emotionally.
And he’d fallen in love with her. Hell, he’d already been in love with her before they’d ever made love. Touching her had only cemented what he already felt.
She knew it, and he knew it. He was the only one denying it.
But wasn’t that better—to hurt her now rather than later on? Because he would hurt her, only later would be worse. Much worse. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name.
She’d feel some pain now, but she’d get over it—get over him. She’d move on, find another guy. A nice guy. And then she’d laugh again, be her old self again. She’d forget about him.
The thought of it made his insides twist. The thought of another man kissing her sweet mouth, laying his hands on her full breasts, sliding inside her warmth and taking what was—
No. She wasn’t his. Not anymore. The sooner they both got used to the idea, the better.
Fog snaked along the river at the bottom of the hill, and the sun had begun its slow rise through the trees. He cursed the light, preferring the darkness that equaled his black mood. He rose, tossing the now damp blanket on the chair, and stepped inside the cabin, quietly heading toward the bathroom. Jessie was a huddle of blankets in the middle of the bed as he walked by. He paused for a fraction of a second, the urge to climb in there and pull her against him and feel her body next to his so damn strong it hurt. Instead, he grabbed clean clothes, shut the bathroom door, stripped, and turned on the shower, letting the hot water slide over him, hoping it would wash away the regret.