Page 73 of Nowhere to Hide

“Need to talk about it?”

I huffed out a laugh. He asked, but I knew he didn’t want to know. Didn’t want me to wrap him any more tightly into my mess.

“I’m good.”

“Didn’t sound like you were good.”

“I will be good, how’s that?”

He didn’t reply, but I knew he was relieved. No man wanted to talk about feelings. Especially this one who had obviously been hiding for a long time.

I disentangled myself from him and brushed the tears away. “Thanks.”

He sat back on his haunches. “It’s fine.”

But he wouldn’t look at me.

He probably wanted to dump me off the side of the boat and be done with me. I moved too fast and my leg felt like it was on fire. I gripped the lightweight blanket and bit back an oath.

“All right. Enough of this.” He scooped me up and staggered to his feet when the boat listed.

He just gripped me harder until every part of my upper body was plastered to his. My eyes widened and I wanted to rip thedamn mirrored shades off him and know exactly what he was thinking.

But he just stalked toward the captain’s booth then took the stairs down to the lower level. He held me so tightly, there was very little jostling. He passed the outdoor deck and through the already open door. He set me by the massive window that looked out on Pickering and the lighthouse. Before I could say thank you, he left me there and disappeared down the stairs to one of the hulls.

Trying to get my bearings, I just stared after him.

Expecting him to come back up, I waited.

And waited.

Unsure what to do, I tried to get up and go to the kitchen. My throat was dry as dust.

I hopped to the nearby table, the muscles throbbing, but my need for something to wet my throat outweighed the discomfort. I bumped into the cabinet across from the kitchen and gripped the counter before I landed on my face.

Suddenly he appeared, the sunglasses finally gone.

His eyes were sharp and angry. His hair was wet, and droplets of water still ran off his body. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I needed water.”

He scooped me up and the scent of soap filled my head. “Call for me.”

I huffed out an annoyed grunt, pissed off that I was shaky. “You took off like?—”

His eyebrow arched. “Like?”

“Like your ass was on fire.”

“I needed to cool off.”

“Why?”

“I’m used to being alone.” He looked at something just over my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. We just have to figure it out.” He set me down at the table. “I’ll make some dinner. You need to eat for your meds.”