Rock Hard (Rock Kiss #2)(64)

“No, but I don’t want any.”

He bought her a frothy thing with chocolate on top anyway, having seen her with something similar when she’d come back from her lunches with Molly a couple of times.

Folding her arms, she said, “Are you planning to drink one from each hand?”

“Don’t be a bad-tempered cat,” he said, holding out her coffee. “I even asked them to put extra chocolate on top.”

Her eyebrows drew together, arms remaining mutinously folded.

“Or I’ll drop it in that trash bin.”

“Oh, give it to me.”

Watching her sip at the frothy concoction, he didn’t make the mistake of thinking she was back to her usual self. The shock had been severe, the bruises deep. But the fact she’d been able to snap at him was a good sign that his Ms. Baird was in there. Maybe a little dented, but whole.

They didn’t talk as they crossed the street at the lights.

Heading past the people pouring out of the train station, they went across the street that ran along the waterfront and turned left, toward the ferry building. That section was busy with commuters. He continued to stroll onward, Charlotte a quiet presence at his side. Quiet, but potent. He was aware of her every move, her every breath.

Reaching the Viaduct, they turned right and walked through Wynyard Quarter until they came to the wide pedestrian bridge that covered the channel out of the marina to their left, the bridge’s white arches sharp and stylized.

“I like watching the bridge open up to let the tall-masted yachts through,” Charlotte said, leaning with her forearms braced on the railing as they faced the sea rather than the marina.

He pointed out a yacht on the water. “Someone’s taking the day off work.”

“I hope it stays sunny for them.” Charlotte fiddled with her coffee cup. “I’m sorry for how I reacted in the break room.” A shuddering exhale. “I’d managed to convince myself that Richard was out of my life forever.” If she’d ever permitted herself to think about it, she’d known this day would come, but the only way she’d been able to get past the fear enough to have any kind of a life was to pretend it wouldn’t.

“Hell, Charlotte, you’re dealing with this better than anyone has a right to expect.” His arm brushed against hers, his suit jacket a dark gray. “But you have to know I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She felt her lower lip tremble. Catching it between her teeth, she shook her head. “I can’t do that, Gabriel. I can’t let you take over, not after I put so much effort into becoming independent.”

“Charlotte—”

“Do you know why Molly moved out after she qualified and got a full-time job at the library?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Not because she wanted to, but because we both knew I was becoming too dependent on her presence.” It had gotten to the point where she couldn’t relax until Molly was in the house. “The first night I spent on my own after she moved out was terrifying… and liberating.”

Jaw set, Gabriel said, “I don’t want to take that away from you, but we have to be smart about this—you need to take measures to protect yourself until we’re certain this bastard is no longer a threat. The best protection you can have is to move in with me.”





25


SHALLOW GRAVES & PSYCHOPATHS & A PISSED-OFF T-REX





CHARLOTTE ALMOST DROPPED HER near-empty takeout cup. “What?”

“I live in a secure building. The apartment’s big enough that you won’t have to see me if you don’t want to.”

As if that was the problem. “You’re not listening to me.” Her fingers clenched on the takeout cup, the ensuing dent broadcast by a crackle of sound. “I can’t go backward. I reclaimed my life after Richard. I didn’t give up the town house I loved—I’m not going to do that now, either.”

She battled the emotions that tried to rise up, overwhelm her. “Do you know how hard it was? At first, I couldn’t even walk into the kitchen because all I’d see was him at the stove, at the table. Molly and I found the money to replace the table, the bed, the sofa, the carpet, anything else he might’ve touched, and my bedroom cupboard doesn’t have any doors, but I stayed. I made it my home again.”

Gabriel released a harsh breath. “I hope he does turn up. I’d enjoy the chance to—”

“No, don’t become him. Don’t.” Voice trembling from the force of her emotions, she put her hand on his forearm, squeezed the taut muscle. “I couldn’t bear it if protecting me forced you to become like him.”

“Jesus, Charlotte, it wouldn’t be like that.” He shoved his other hand through his hair. “I protect what’s mine. Always have, always will.”

The words rocked her, cut through the frustration to touch something newer, far more vulnerable. Sucking in a draft of the salt-laced air, she shook her head. “I know you, Gabriel. You’re so angry, have been since I told you.”

His muscles grew even more tense under her touch. “Of course I’m angry. He hurt you.”

“But if you dwell on it,” she whispered and laid her heart on the line, “the rage will swallow you up, and then he’ll have taken you from me too.”