Page 80 of The Pretender

And there it was. Her undying belief that she deserved to be punished for something she’d said as a throwaway line at a teen party. He wanted to shake her parents for letting that happen. They had two children and they protected one. His mother hadn’t even done that. “She was a kid. But, hell, so were you.”

“She was my baby sister.”

That same argument. She kept throwing it out but each time it sounded less persuasive. “And she turned your life upside down.” When she didn’t argue with him, he kept going. “You didn’t kill her and you’d give everything to have her back with you. But you’re allowed to be angry about other things.”

He reached for another towel and wrapped it around his waist. It did nothing to fight off the chill, but the anger flowing through him on her behalf kept him warm enough.

“If I...” Gabby bit her lower lip. Her voice and that look in her eyes—she was pleading with him now. “She’s dead, Harris.”

“Gabby.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “She didn’t mean—”

“Gabby.”

She shook her head. “I don’t get to be angry.”

“You do. Here, in this room.” He put his hands on her upper arms. “Between us, you do.”

She moved and the water sloshed around her feet. “I don’twantto be angry.”

“I didn’t either, but I couldn’t forgive my mom until I admitted how pissed off I was.” By then it was too late to retrace the steps of his life. Everything his mother did influenced every choice he’d made. He wanted to blame her, but at some point he had to own it. That reality hit exactly fourteen months ago.

“It’s not fair.” The fight went out of her and her shoulders slumped.

“It is, Gabby.” He squeezed her arms to let her know he was right there to catch her. “I don’t have a sister but I know they screw up and they fight. She was young and naïve when she made the mistake, and by the time she was old enough for you to yell it out she’d changed and you never got that closure.”

Gabby inhaled a deep shuddering breath as her body seemed to fold in on itself. Something crashed inside her. He could see it.

“I hated what she did. Hated that I had to protect her. So many times I thought about not doing it.” Her voice wobbled and she stopped. After a few swallows she tried again. “That first Thanksgiving my parents didn’t let me come home from college. The way my uncle looked at me. My mom crying on the phone.”

He pulled her in closer, ignoring the way the water splashed up his calves. “You had and still have every right to be angry.”

She rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Then why does it feel so crappy?”

“Because you’re human.” He slid a hand over her hair and placed a kiss right by her ear. “Perfectly human.”

She was waterlogged and exhausted by the time they left the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Harris had kept verbally poking her, insisting she talk. He was in this big rush to get her to dredge up the past and analyze it.

She’d wanted to be furious with his interference, but she couldn’t conjure up the energy. It had taken every ounce of strength to keep from admitting the one thing she’d always refused to admit. The words she hid in the back of her mind and pretended didn’t exist. But Harris brought it all to the surface. He gave her opportunity after opportunity. Held her, caressed her, let her know it was okay to say the words she’d been so desperate to keep locked inside. They rattled around inside her then tumbled out.

Dried off but still wearing the towel, she followed him into the living room. He kept his towel wrapped around his waist. A simple knot held it at his side. Seeing it, watching him walk, looking at those amazing shoulders and how they angled down to that trim waist, a new sensation hit her.

The sleepiness slipped away and her muscles snapped back to life. The revving inside her, the tightening and shortness of breath, had nothing to do with the discussion in the tub. No, this bubbling need came from a different place.

She wanted him.

Adrenaline surged inside her. He wanted her to feel, well, so did she. Right now.

“Harris.” She waited until he turned around and looked at her—really looked—to drop the towel.

“I... damn.” His gaze took off on a journey. It skipped down her body, hesitating on her breasts, before dipping lower.

Well, that was adorable. “Is that a yes?”

“For the record, the answer isalwaysyes for you.”

She couldn’t think of a sexier answer than that. “Then what are you doing over there?”

---