Page 62 of Deadly Secrets
All the way home, she’d tucked herself against the passenger door and read that damn novel, refusing to discuss the revelation she’d had during her talk with Dr. Collins. He knew from Emma that she’d remembered more about her childhood attacker, but the psychologist was reluctant to discuss the details. “That’s up to Brooke,” she’d told Roman. “While she’s not my patient, she is my friend now. What we discussed was in confidence. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
While he agreed that it was Brooke’s prerogative to share when she was ready, he hated seeing her upset and needed to know first and foremost that she was going to be okay. Then, after that, if what she’d remembered might help them catch her stalker.
“I’m here when you want to talk,” he called after her.
Silence met his ears. Sliding his keys onto the hook next to the door, he contemplated various ways to reassure her. To be her support system.
It’s what he did—took care of others. He hated seeing anyone scared, upset, or in need.
If only Percy had let me take care of him after he got back from Iraq.
His brother would still be alive.
Be the hero.
He actually had taken care of Percy for awhile. But in the end, he hadn’t been able to save him. He could—and would—do whatever it took to save Brooke.
From his wine fridge, he brought out a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from his favorite vineyard upstate and found a wine glass in the overhead cabinet. This was the best bottle of white wine he owned and Brooke deserved the best.
Before taking her the glass, he rummaged in his pantry and found a box of chocolate truffles one of his sisters had brought back from a trip to Sweden a few months ago. He wasn’t much into sweets so he hadn’t opened them yet, but what woman had ever turned down fancy chocolates?
In the freezer, he found two sirloins and pulled them out to defrost. Like he’d told Brooke, he wasn’t much of a cook, but he could grill a couple of steaks and cut up veggies.
Chocolate, steak, wine…what about a bubble bath? His mom and sisters liked those. Except he had nothing to make bubbles.
What she needs is time in the ring. Something—or someone—to punch a few times and work out her fear and anger.
That’s what he’d seen on her face. Whatever she’d remembered about her attacker, it had scared her and that fear made her angry.
No one liked feeling vulnerable. To compensate, anger often rose to the occasion. But misplaced anger could do more harm than good. He was a walking testament to that. So many fights before he’d even become a boxer…
Snagging the glass of wine from the counter, Roman brought it and the box of truffles into the den.
Brooke was curled up at one end of the couch, knees bent and feet under her bottom with that book in her hand. He said nothing, pretending he didn’t notice her gaze following him as he set the wine and chocolates on the coffee table in front of her and lit the gas fireplace. It was a warm summer evening, but the fireplace was more for ambience than heat and the sunken den was cooler than the rest of the house.
Without a glance back, he left the room and went to work on dinner.
He was opening his second beer and getting ready to chop onions when Brooke appeared in the doorway half an hour later with the empty wine glass in hand and a smidgen of chocolate on her lips. The romance book was in her other hand.
“You know, I never felt wanted growing up, especially after I overheard my parents discussing my adoption.” She sat on a stool and placed her glass on the breakfast bar. “It sort of freaked me out when you wanted me for your team.”
“Freaked you out?” She was talking to him again. That was good, but he had the feeling he needed to step lightly. “Why would that freak you out? You consult for Cooper’s team. Mine isn’t much different.”
“Twice. I’ve consulted for them twice. And Cooper Harris doesn’t make me feel like…”
“Like what?”
“Like you do.”
He picked up the knife and started slicing the freshly skinned onion. “Is that good or bad?”
Her voice was soft. “I’m not sure.”
Not exactly confidence-inspiring. “I like having you here, Brooke. I hope you like it too.”
“Your team is great, and I admire the work you do. I hope I’m actually an asset with this case.”
He stopped slicing, but didn’t look at her. “I wasn’t talking about work. I like having you here. In my place.”
