Page 64 of The Manny

Surprised he’d read me so well, I said, “Of course.”

“Would you tell me if it wasn’t?”

“No.”

He laughed. “Didn’t think so.”

“I just wanted to come home,” I said quietly.

He tilted his head and his gaze sharpened. “Is that right?”

“You don’t need to make a federal case out of it.”

He studied me. “How about I get you an ice-cold beer?”

“It’s not like I can’t get my own beer.” I glanced up. “You don’t have to serve me.”

He smiled. “Jack, go change your clothes. Relax. I’ll bring your beer out to the patio. You like sitting out there after work, right?”

“Sometimes.”

He glanced over his shoulder and then stepped up to me. “Hey.” He touched my arm. “You’re home now. You can let down your guard.”

His words sent a warm rush through me, but I wasn’t sure how to respond. I barely knew him really, yet he seemed to understand exactly how I felt. My conversation with Brody had bothered me more than I wanted. I knew Brody regretted what he’d said because he’d seen it bothered me. But he hadn’t been lying. That was how the guys felt about me and, for whatever reason, that hurt.

“I’m gonna go change,” I said gruffly.

“Okay.” He took my hand. “I’m glad you’re home early.”

My skin tingled against his, and I felt breathless. “I don’t know why.”

“Yes, you do.”

How could this be the same man I’d wanted to murder weeks ago? All I wanted to do now was kiss him. Hold him. Tell him what was bugging me. That made no sense. He was essentially a stranger to me. And yet…

I pulled my hand away. “I’ll go change my clothes.”

If my reaction annoyed him, he hid it. He simply smiled and moved away from me. “Sounds great,” he said brightly. “Meet you out on the back patio in ten.”

Chapter Twelve

Thomas

As I stirred the chicken dish on the stove, I thought about Jack. Something was definitely eating at him. He wasn’t an easy man to draw things out of, but I was going to try. He needed to learn to talk when things upset him. Negativity had a way of festering and making things worse.

Once I was sure the sauce was simmering nicely, I grabbed a beer for Jack. I headed outside and found him already sitting in a chair, with his legs stretched out in front of him. He didn’t hear me coming at first and that allowed me to study him. He looked tired. Very different from the man who’d left the house earlier today. Something had happened, and I wanted to see if I could get him to open up to me.

When he glanced over and saw me, his face shuttered. My stomach tensed at his wary expression. I hated it when he shut down like that. There was no reason to be guarded around me, but he didn’t seem to realize that.

“Did you want a glass?” I asked.

“I don’t need one.” He held out his hand for the bottle. “Thank you, Thomas.”

“My pleasure.” When I gave him the beer I made a point of brushing my fingers against his. I wanted to make contact with him somehow. Instead of going back inside, I sat down beside him.

He didn’t say anything.

“It’s a nice evening,” I said.

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