Page 10 of Blurred Love

I put my other hand on his arm. “Last week, when we met, I had a really rough morning. A man, uh, gave me some trouble at a location that morning, and I let it carry over with me the rest of the day. I saw you watching me, and I thought you were giving me dirty looks. I just snapped and all the things uh, that man said to me, I said to you.”

His forehead creases, and I know he’s trying to recall everything I said to him. He lifts his glasses from his face and puts them on the top of his head. “Are you saying that some man said those things about you, called you names?”

His speech is fragmented, but his voice is thick with emotion. It’s obvious he’s angry, and I don’t want to upset him. “It’s fine.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not fine.”

I wave him off. I wasn’t trying to upset him or have him come to my rescue. I just wanted him to understand.

CHAPTER6

COLTER

She has her guard up, and it’s killing me. All I need is a name, and the man that bothered her will never do it again. But she doesn’t trust me. Somehow I have to earn her trust.

I’m gripping her hand like it’s a lifeline, and I have to remind myself to soften my hold. I have to remind myself to speak slowly, and I have to really think about the words. “Thank you for researching TBI and how you could help me. No one has ever done something like that for me before.”

She tilts her head to the side, and her hand on my arm lifts as she points at the croissant and pie she brought me. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Later,” I tell her.

She nods her head and puts her hand back on my arm. This should be awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s not for me. I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time, and I’m reveling in the feel of it all.

I clear my throat. “How long have you worked for Glaze Bakery?”

Her face turns red. “Just over a month. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I tried college, but I hated it.”

“You’re young, you have time,” I tell her, wondering how old she is. I could have easily hacked into her information and found out everything I wanted to know about her, but I didn’t want to do it that way.

She laughs. “I’m twenty-five, a college dropout, and I live in a one-bedroom condo that my father bought for me.”

She’s ten years younger than me. It’s not that big of a deal, relativity speaking, but why am I even thinking about it? It’s not going to happen between me and her. Reluctantly, I pull my hand from hers. Instantly, I miss her touch, but I know that it’s the right thing to do.

“So what do you want to do with your life?”

She looks at her now empty hands on the table and then pulls her arms back against herself. “I grew up with my grandma teaching me to bake, and that’s when I’m most happy.”

I point toward the truck. “Well, you’re off to a good start.”

She shrugs. “I got to bake when I first started, but now that I drive the truck, I’m more like a delivery person.”

Well, hell, she’s the most gorgeous delivery woman I’ve ever seen, but I understand her frustration. “Don’t give up. Talk to Emery. I’m sure she’d let you work some days in the shop and some on the truck.”

She creases her forehead. “You know my boss?”

“She’s married to Nash, and Nash works with Walker,” I explain, not wanting to get into the whole explanation of the Ghost Team or anything. The sun comes through a cloud, and instantly, I’m pulling my glasses off my head and putting them on my face.

“Are you sensitive to light?”

Instead of answering her, I ask my own question. “More research?”

She blushes, and I don’t know how to tell her how much it means to me that she would research my condition and want to help me.

She evades the question. “So what about you? Are you a patient here? How long are you in Whiskey Run?”

I look at the huge building behind us. “I work here. I mean, I guess I’m a patient too. Walker requires all of us to go to therapy.”

“What do you do?”

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