Page 89 of Tell Me Something True

She was going to celebrate it.

She’d cleaned her entire apartment, unpacked and put away all her worldly possessions, organized her bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, and driven the route to her new job five times—three times using her phone for directions and two without to make sure she knew exactly how to get to work the next morning.

That Mount Laurel’s Human Services division was in the building next to—and shared a parking lot with—the MLPD was just her bad luck.

Nothing new there.

She’d also made two trips to the local hardware store—the first for a hammer and screwdriver and a fan, the second for the chair she was now sitting on and a second fan because her apartment was like a freaking sauna—bought groceries at a place called Sonny’s that she absolutely could not afford to shop at ever again, and set up her internet installation for Tuesday after being on hold for forty minutes.

It was incredible how much a person could get done when they set their mind to it and had no one else they could count on to help them.

And as she’d accomplished all the many, many things, she hadn’t once stopped thinking about Miles.

We’re done.

Those two words particularly.

The way he’d uttered them so coldly, with such finality. Then turned on his heel and left, walking away without so much as a backward glance.

Which Tabitha knew for a fact because she’d stood there staring at his broad back—and yes, maybe taking a quick glance at his ass because she was only human, and it looked spectacular in his uniform pants—until he’d gotten in his car and drove away.

She’d thought for sure she’d be trekking the two miles back to her apartment in her strappy sandals and dress after dropping off the rental. But when she’d stepped out of Bissett’s tiny office, Verity was waiting for her, Ian in the backseat.

Because Miles had texted his sister and asked her to pick Tabitha up.

And when their lunch got delivered, Tabitha tried to pay only to find out that it had already been covered by Assistant Chief Jennings.

Seemed he wasn’t done with her after all.

Not as much as he wanted to be.

Not nearly as much as she needed him to be.

Staring blindly across the quiet yard, she rubbed her forefinger across the scar on her chin remembering Miles’s finger there, his touch burning like a flame. The way everything seemed to condense and narrow to that one, small point, until all she could see was his face, all she could feel was his skin on hers.

All she could do was open her mouth when he increased that slight pressure.

Standing there, breathless and enthralled by his gaze and the husky tone of his voice, she’d wanted to give him everything he asked for. Everything she was.

Who hurt you, baby?

She’d trusted him. Had wanted to confide in him.

Then something in his eyes shifted, turning heated and dark. Sexual.

Something that warned her he wasn’t different from any other man who’d looked at her that way.

And she’d reverted to the girl she’d once been. Distrustful. Deceitful. Guarded.

Part of her regretted it immediately.

Another part reminded her what happened when she let people get too close. When she let her defenses down.

Told her she wasn’t cut out for the things he was looking for, the things he needed.

Honesty. Trust.

Someone who was whole.

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