Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(63)

She glared at him.

“Of course, you remember that.” He shook his head quickly. “The point is, it evoked an immediate response. What I said to get you to leave last night was the same thing. I wouldn’t have shot you that night any more than I meant what I said last night to get you to go. I needed you to leave and follow the plan, so you would be safe.”

It made sense—she’d already told herself that could be the explanation—but she wasn’t ready for sense. Even if it was true, it still didn’t mean he felt the same way about her as she did for him. And it sure as hell didn’t change the fact that this was temporary.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying our time together, but you have to understand, right now that is secondary. Until the trial, your safety has to be my top priority. I’m fighting to keep you alive, and if I have to hurt your feelings to do it, so be it.” He sure didn’t sound very apologetic.

She nodded and glanced at the door, wanting him to leave. Which, after a moment when she didn’t say anything in response, he did.

She didn’t come out for dinner. She needed to distance herself so she could be objective, like he was.

She understood what he was saying, and it wasn’t that she was really angry at him. It was more about being faced with a big wake up call. She’d thought she could keep things casual, but it was clear she couldn’t.

She loved him.

She’d thought she would be able to turn it off when the time came. It was apparent now, she’d lost the ability to do that.

It was going to hurt terribly when he left to go back to his real life.

Hell, it already hurt. Because real life had just smacked her upside the face.

She went to bed early. Being hurt and angry wore her out. She didn’t sleep well. She tossed and turned like the night before, and had dreams that Garrett needed her help but she was trapped in the shelter and couldn’t come. When she woke in the middle of the night, he was sitting on the edge of her bed.

His shadow in the light from the bathroom nearly scared her to death.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Checking on you.” he whispered. “Sorry if I woke you.”

He hadn’t. The nightmare had woken her.

“I’m fine,” she said when her heart seemed okay with staying in her chest. He made no move to get up. He looked awful. She sat up and caught a whiff of bourbon. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Are you all right?”

“I know what’s happening here.” His low voice melted into the darkness.

“What’s that?”

“You care about me, and yesterday you were faced with the possibility I would be killed. Now you’re trying to put distance between us.” He paused and ran his hand over his hair. “I know because I’m doing the same thing. If I fail, you could die. Not only would I miss you, but I’d have to live knowing it was my fault.”

For the first time since the alarm went off, she understood her deeper feelings. The ones below all the hurt and rejection. Her real feelings.

He was right. She was doing the same thing to him. The safe thing.

He met her gaze. “If we both push each other away, we’re going to waste the time we could have had together. I don’t want that.” He reached for her, but pulled his hand back again. “When you sleep with me, I don’t have to worry about getting to you quickly enough. You’re right there. And…I like to listen to you breathing,” he said quietly. “I count your breaths until I fall asleep, and I sleep so much better.”

She didn’t say anything. He just sat there.

“But that’s not the real reason I want to sleep with you,” he whispered. He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t have to. His eyes said it all.

“Come here,” she said, reaching for him, her heart melting completely.

He didn’t hesitate. He slid into bed next to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I don’t want to hurt you, but everything I do is wrong.”

“Shh. Let’s just go to sleep. Everything will be fine in the morning.”

He let out a deep breath and snuggled closer, putting his face against her neck. She played with his hair as she drifted off to sleep.

So much for putting distance between them.

Her anger wasn’t with him. It was with this whole situation. A situation caused by Congressman Howe. She thought back to that night when he’d so callously ended Heather Riddell’s life. Sam hadn’t realized he’d ended her life that night, as well.

She wished things had been different. If she’d met Garrett at some bar, and she wasn’t running for her life. They would have exchanged phone numbers, and— And get real.

That was just a fairy tale fantasy. She had to face the cold, hard facts of reality. Happy endings simply weren’t in the cards for her.

So, she would take what she could get.

Things were back to normal the next morning. Or as normal as they had been, which was not very normal.

Garrett wrapped his arms around her waist as she made their breakfast. His phone rang, startling them both.

He studied the screen and winced. “I need to take this.” He took the phone and walked out of the house.