Page 15 of When You Are Mine

“Oh! Come on. I’m starving.” She jerked her hand free and darted from the room like a skittish colt.

* * *

Walsh followed at a more leisurely pace, trying not to notice the elegant muscles in Kerris’s calves and thighs, clearly displayed by her cutoffs. Or the toned line of her arms and shoulders. He’d been concentrating onnotseeing Kerris all summer, without much success. Tonight, he didn’t have the will, and there was no way he could resist.

“Actually, I haven’t eaten, either.”

He kept his voice soft and even, free of the rebellious desire he usually subdued. He should head home and eat with his family. Instead, he let the silent request to share her meal dangle in the quiet of the room around them.

“Oh,” Kerris said into the awkward moment he had created. “Would you…well would you, like to stay and eat?”

“What a gracious offer.” He chuckled with self-derision. Was he so desperate that he would stay when she so obviously didn’t want him to?

“Sorry. No, of course you can stay,” she rushed to say. “There’s a kitchen just through here.”

They sat at the small card table in the kitchen, lit by summer’s late-setting sun, a wary silence insulating them. Walsh raised his head when Kerris scraped her fork across the plates their cook, Mrs. Quinton, had packed. She barreled through her food, head bent, shoveling forkfuls of macaroni and cheese and collard greens into her mouth. Walsh carefully placed his fork down on the table, raising his brows at the swift repetition of the fork to her mouth, broken occasionally by a quick bite into a drumstick.

His lips twitched, wondering if she felt the tension as thick between them as he did, making her eager to put an end to their impromptu meal. She’d pay for it later with indigestion, considering how fast she was eating.

“So nice to meet a girl with an appetite.” He watched her eyes go round and her mouth drop open then snap closed. A delicate rose tinged the honey of her cheeks.

“Sorry.” She dropped her fork with a clang, delicately wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Guess I was hungry.”

“Hmmm.” He added a smile to the monosyllable, popping open a Diet Coke. “You guess? I only ate one of thosefourdrumsticks.”

“Rude! You never point out something like that to a lady.” She sat back with feigned indignation. “Just for that, I might burp.”

He laughed out loud, locking eyes with her as he took a gulp of his soft drink.

“A girl who’s not afraid to eatorburp. No wonder Cam’s so whipped.”

She became perfectly still under his consideration.

“Cam’s not whipped.” She gave a little smile that told him she kind of knew Cam definitely was whipped.

“Any girl who can captivate Cam, a true player, fascinates me.”

“There’s nothing…interesting about me.” She leaned her chin into the palm of her hand. “I’m just a girl.”

“Tell me about this girl.”

“What do you want to know?” She lifted those crazy-long lashes to squarely face him.

Everything. Anything.

“I know you were in foster care. How many homes?”

“Five total.” She barely moved her lips to let the words out, signaling that this was a topic she usually guarded closely. “The last one I was in from age ten to eighteen, though. The Murphys.”

“They never considered adopting you?”

“No, they didn’t want kids of their own.” She origamied the napkin between her fingers.

“Why’d they keep you all those years then?”

“I guess I was extra cash.” She fixed her eyes on the wall behind him.

“I’m sorry.” He made sure he didn’t leak any pity in his voice. “Were they good people? Did they treat you well?”

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