Page 124 of The Man Next Door
“Maybe that makes you noble,” Zona suggested.
“No, it leaves me suffocating.” He dug into the last of his enchiladas. “There’s a difference between being useful and letting yourself be used. I think I’ve finally figured that out.”
“Why does life have to be so hard?” Zona mused.
“Dunno. Probably the bigger question is why do we make it even harder?”
“I’m done with that,” she said firmly.
“Me, too. I am ready to have some fun. Baseball games, backyard barbecues, Super Bowl parties. Maybe even learn to dance. How does that sound?”
She smiled. “You had me at dance.”
No, he had her at the way he was looking at her. It goosed up her heart rate and her body heat climbed another six degrees. He had the kind of body a woman couldn’t help wanting to claim, and even more attractive, the heart beating inside itappeared to be supersized. Was he someone she could safely move forward with or would he land her in another smelly mess?
She bit down on her lip and studied the pool. The turquoise water looked so calm and inviting. Rather like the future Alec was painting.
But people drowned in pools.
“You make starting over sound so easy,” she said. “It’s not.”
“I know it’s not. But it beats staying stuck in one place.”
“What if the place you’re stuck in is safe?” Zona argued.
“A padded cell is safe.”
She laughed at that. “Oh, now, there’s an interesting metaphor.”
“Okay, the womb is safe.”
“Very poetic,” she said.
“Yeah, that’s me. Like it or not, at some point you get pushed out. From then on, what happens is up to you. You can’t hide forever, Zona.”
She frowned at him. “I’m not hiding. I’m rebuilding. And I’m doing it very carefully, making sure this time that I’ve got a solid foundation. How’s that for a metaphor?”
“Pretty impressive,” he said with a nod. “Building is a lot of work, and a lot of doing. You can’t squat on a foundation forever because you’re worried the walls will fall in on you if you put them up.”
The walls had fallen in on her twice before. “I’m afraid.” The words crept out on a whisper.
He reached over and laid that big, solid hand of his on top of hers. “I know you are.”
“I don’t know you, not really.”
She’d seen his temper. What else could set it off besides his out of control stepsister? Was he solid and trustworthy or was he truly a Jekyll and Hyde? People were so good at hiding their true selves.
“You keep saying that, but I hope you’re starting to.” He studied her a moment. “What’s got you worried? Be honest.”
“I’ve seen an angry side to you. What brings it out besides your stepsister?”
He thought a moment. “Being lied to, being used, lazy workers. Cheaters.” He half smiled. “Seeing the Dodgers lose.”
“Dogs pooping on your lawn,” she added.
“Yeah, that.”
“You yell a lot.”
