Page 48 of Deadly Attraction
He was jealous of his dead brother.
Fuck, what is wrong with me?
Parents often hung onto their dead child’s clothes, refused to change anything in their bedroom. He knew that.
And yet, for some reason, his mother seemed to prefer living in the past, pretending Mac might come home, rather than enjoying the son she still had.
Stupid shirt.
Crazy didn’t begin to cover what he was for letting a harmless piece of fabric turn him into a jackass.
He ran the hot water until it scalded his hands and created more bubbles than necessary. He scoured the dishes and the skillet beyond what was necessary to clean them, then rinsed them. Checking drawers, he found a dishtowel with faded horses printed on it and went to work drying and putting the dishes away.
The table still needed cleaning, but he left it and took the stairs to Emma’s office.
The door was ajar and he could see her working at her desk. Her reading glasses perched on her nose as she made notes by hand in a file.
His chest hurt over alienating her. Hehadbeen jealous, like some horny teenage boy, last night. But then he’d realized it was more than jealousy. Much more.
And not just because of the reminder of Mac’s shirts hanging in his mother’s house.
There was no accounting for what he was feeling right now.I don’t even know her.
But his gut didn’t lie. He was drawn to Emma in a way he’d never been drawn to another woman.
Rapping on the wooden door with two knuckles, he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t look up. Disappointed? Hell yeah.
“Leaving now?” she inquired, continuing to write in the file.
“Not yet.”
When he didn’t continue, she glanced at him over the rim of her glasses. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah.” He started to walk into the room, stalled out in the doorway. His feet just wouldn’t move. “I need to apologize.”
Carefully, she laid down the pen and sat back in the chair, giving him her full attention.
He stammered, so unlike him. “I, uh… I was rude downstairs. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
Silence hung between them. That was it. Nothing else.
Except that stare of hers. Penetrating but nonjudgmental, making him want to step inside and explain more fully.
Sweat beaded along his hairline. The dogs had ambled up and now stood near him, Pepper reaching out to angle his head under Mitch’s hand.
Taking a steadying breath, he dropped his gaze to the dog’s soft brown eyes. “It’s not jealousy,” he said. “I mean, at first, yeah, it was a little, but you know that’s crazy, because why would I be jealous of some guy staying here? You had a life before me, and I’ve only known you a day or so, and well, it makes no sense to me, as I’m sure it doesn’t to you. But I felt protective of you, and I like you, so it didn’t sit well with me thinking about some other guy being here. You know, having a relationship with you and then hurting you.”
She removed the glasses from her nose and tossed them on the desk. “Why did you assume he hurt me?”
“He’s not here any longer and you still have his clothes. If you’d thrown him out, I’m guessing the clothes would have gone with him or been burned.” He continued to pet Pepper, the dog leaning into his leg as if offering support. “Then, this morning, you said nothing happened with that guy, but it sounded cliché, and I guess I was already entrenched in my normal mode of operation, so I had a hard time believing you.”
“Yournormalmode of operation?”
He made eye contact, wondering if she was analyzing him or asking out of politeness. “I don’t let myself get involved with anyone, anymore. I keep people at a safe distance, even friends.”
“So they won’t hurt you?”
