Page 60 of Shades of Mercy
“I’m not in the mood for your smart-ass remarks,” he growled.
“Maybe I’m not in the mood for your moodiness.”
“You never listen, Mercy. You’ve always been that way.”
He pushed up from the chair, grabbed the empty bottles, and dropped them in the trash can.
The rippled muscles in his back flexed as he reached into the refrigerator and grabbed another bottle of beer. The pockets of the faded jeans seemed to cling to his firm ass. Life would be much easier if she could deny the attraction.
But here she was, in love with someone who couldn’t seem to make up his mind whether he wanted her near or wanted to be alone. It felt a lot like spinning wheels and getting nowhere.
The indecisiveness was getting old—the hot-and-cold attitude.
She stood. “You have something to say to me, so just say it,” she urged.
“I did. You’re a bad listener,” he said without even looking at her.
“Whatever you say, Jag. You’re drunk.”
“No, I’m far from it,” he said steadfastly.
“You’re acting like I strode down Main Street and screamed to everyone that I’m Mercy Sams and have a bad guy on my trail. I did my job, you know, the one you chose for me.”
He set his bottle aside and ran his palms down his face. “This isn’t easy.”
“I don’t know how to make watching over me much easier,” she said quietly.
“That’s not what I’m referring to.” Dark circles lined his eyes.
“Then what are you referring to? Because right now, I’m exhausted and can’t figure out how to crack the Jag code.”
“Never mind,” he grumbled.
“What the hell?” She flung her arms up. “Tell me what you want from me. Oh, that’s right, you want to be alone. I guess all that time isolated on the mountain didn’t solve the ‘Jag Problems’.”
“I’m too tired to get into this.”
“Fine. We’re both tired. I want to go take a shower and wash the smell of food off my body.” She took a step toward the hallway.
“Do you want Bones?”
His question made her turn back, narrowing her gaze on him in disbelief. She could see the stress in the lines of his face. “I understand you had a long, rough day, but don’t overthink my relationship with Bones.”
“I’m not one to overthink, sweetheart. I’m pretty cut and dried.”
“We’ve discussed this. Bones and I are just friends.”
“It’s okay to admit that you want more. He’s a great guy.”
“Yes, he is, but for someone that isn’t me.” She needed to clear the air. “The truth is standing before you, glaring you right in the eye, and you keep denying it. Or you don’t want to acknowledge it. I don’t know why I have feelings for someone who can’t make up his mind whether he wants me or not. Is it that difficult, Jag? Do you have that many doubts about me? Us? When does the fear of never seeing me again become greater than your fear of commitment?”
“Mercy…”
“Yeah, that’s right. We shouldn’t be having these conversations because they disrupt your peace.”
“I need to be one hundred in, or one hundred out. This isn’t fair to you.”
“So you’ve decided you’re one hundred out?” Why did she feel a pain take up residence in the center of her chest? Why did she feel like she was losing a better part of herself?
