Page 6 of Midnight Wedding

“I wasn’t fondling anything.” I lightly slap his arm and have to pull my hand back quickly when it’s like hitting pure steel. “And who uses the wordundergarments?”

“Don’t change the subject.” His eyes are shining with amusement. We’re standing very close together. “I caught you going through my stuff.”

“And I’m making it up to you by helping you clean.” I stoop down and start gathering cash. “Who has all this money lying around, anyway?”

“Emergency fund.” He gently moves me away and takes over. I could linger a little longer under that touch. “Everyone should have one.”

“Must be nice,” I mutter, frowning at the stacks he makes. There must be enough there to pay our rent for two years. And that’s hisemergency money.

We move into the bedrooms. Only one of them is furnished. The other two are mainly barren. Everything’s wrecked, including the bed frame, and it takes an hour before we manage to make the place at least semi-presentable in the sense that I could walk around barefoot without cutting my toes. It’s still a wreck though.

When we’re done, he sits next to me on the edge of the bed, and I’m feeling both exhausted and wired.

It’s a bad combination. I’m loopy and dreamy, and I keep staring at his lips, wondering what they feel like.

Would they taste sharp and metallic? Like the barrel of his gun?

Mom always said I’m too curious for my own good.

Right now, I’m starting to think she was right.

“I keep waiting for you to ask again,” he says softly, staring across the room at the door.

“Ask what?” But I know. The one thing we decided not to talk about.

He gestures all around us.

“Oh, right.” I lean back on my hands. My jacket shifts open more and falls slightly down my shoulders. I should adjust it, but choose not to. His eyes move down my body again, and another tingle shudders between my legs. I like the way he looks at me. I like the way he sits close to me. I like his mouth, the way he teases me, his voice, his sense of humor. I even like the way he smells.

Not his underwear.Him. I didn’t smell his underwear.

“You don’t want to know,” he says after a long, tension-filled pause. “Trust me, it’s better if you act like you never saw this.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Really?”

No, not really, not remotelyreally, but what else can I say?

I’m dying to know why this happened, but it’s very obvious that this guy is big trouble, and it’s better for my health if I don’t find out.

Even though it’skillingme.

“Sure. Really.”

He laughs softly. This time it’s a low chuckle. “You’re not very good at lying.”

“I’m a wonderful liar. Here, watch this.” I compose myself and meet his eye. “This is totally normal, and I’m having a great time. See? Fantastic.”

“You’re not supposed to admit that’s something you do.”

“Got me there.”

“Let’s pretend tonight never happened. You go back to your place, go to bed, and in the morning, it’s like you never came in here.”

“That’s going to be hard for me.”

“But better for you in the long run.” His smile fades away. Something dark and haunted replaces it. Which only makes me want to ask a dozen questions. “You don’t want to know me.”

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