Page 64 of Fiona and the Fixer

“Running,” I said, my escaping ragged breaths making huge puffy clouds.

“From me?”

I set my hands on my hips. “What? No.”

“Really, then why aren’t we in bed instead of standing in the middle of the street before dawn?”

“Because–”

“Because you think I don’t know the second you get outof bed? You’re going to that fucking pickle shop again. With a gun.” He waved his hand and pointed, although I wasn’t sure how he could see my shoulder holster beneath my heavy fleece top.

I frowned, then grumbled, “I need to know what’s going on.”

He ran a frustrated hand over the back of his neck. “We’ve been through this. I thought we’re doing this together.”

“The last time you helped me, you said I was pregnant.” I couldn’t think of much worse.

“Why can’t we sleep in and watch them from the bookstore?”

“I watched the shop for hours yesterday when youleftme in that bookstore,” I reminded.

He stepped closer and took my hand.Took my hand.“We’re doing this together.” His voice wasn’t angry and that was a problem. A calm Dax confused me.

I shook my head. “No.”

He squeezed my fingers. “Yes. Why can’t you accept help?”

“Why do you want to give it? What’s in it for you?”

“I want you safe.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“You’re supposed to be my fake girlfriend,” he added.

“Exactly.Fake.” I tugged my hand from his. “You’re acting like arealboyfriend.”

“What? Watching out for you so you don’t do something reckless? Helping you?”

I flung my arms wide. “YES!”

A dog barked in the distance from my shout. Dax stepped closer.

“Why do you hate it when someone does something for you?”

“Because I’m not your problem.”

His eyes narrowed. “Can’t someone take care of you?”

“Take care of me?” I set my hand on my chest. “I take care of me. This? It’s not real. This is all fake, remember?”

He stared at me. Even in the dark, I could see the blue in his intense gaze. He stepped into my space, crowding me. This time, instead of taking my hand, he cupped my cheeks. Gently. Softly. All the warm and fuzzy adjectives I wasn’t used to when it came to… anyone. “Not all of this is fake.”

I felt like squirming, because what he said was true. I didn’t like the feeling. It scared the shit out of me.

I might be able to protect myself from Dax. From everyone. But what about my… gasp, heart?

29

---