Page 20 of Love Undercover
He shifted, the discomfort like an ill-fitting suit against his body. He didn’t like the direction of the conversation.
She placed her arms on the countertop, shifting forward a little. “Why did it bother you so much to have the attention?”
He backed up to lean against the counter again, folding his arms across his chest. As if he could put as much space between himself and this topic, the memories, as possible. He lifted a shoulder to give the impression it didn’t bother him, though it made his stomach churn.
“I wasn’t really the all-star everyone thought I was and made me out to be. I was just a tall kid, and the game came easier for me than those other guys.”
She rested her chin in her hand. “I saw you play. I think you’re selling yourself short.”
He gave his head a decisive shake and grabbed the empty pan he’d cooked the eggs in, bringing it to the sink. It was what people often said. The sport came naturally to him, and because it’s what his dad wanted at the time, he was pushed to be something he wasn’t. And then all of that stuff happened with his dad, and Chase pushed himself even harder.
There was so much baggage tied to that time in his life, and because he felt so much, he buried so much, shoving it all deep down, throwing as much dirt on top of it as he could.
Now that was a skill he was proud of. One that had served him for the last two years working this job.
Which he was now putting in jeopardy by making the choices he had the day before. Woman before job, before the bigger picture. Pretty woman, to be sure. And a woman tied to his past,which had inexplicably called to him. But she was innocent, too. She didn’t deserve to be left to those wolves.
“I’m sorry,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to pry. This is. . .”
He turned when she didn’t finish. She looked away, tucking her caramel-colored hair behind her ear, and his eyes tracked the movement and then traced the curve of her neck with a hunger that surprised him.
He forced his gaze back to her face. “You have nothing to apologize for. I just don’t like to think about it.”
“Okay.” The word was so soft, and she kept her eyes from his face, which made him feel like shit.
He wanted to smooth the awkwardness. “So, since my bed and breakfast is not up to standard for you, what with my non-organic eggs and my poison coffee, should we make a list of what you’d like me to have on hand?”
She jerked to look at him, and he appreciated the color his words brought back into her cheeks. Why she’d be offended by what he’d said, he had no idea.
She must have quickly talked herself down, though, because she seemed torn on what to say for a moment, and the flame in her eyes died.
“This kidnapping situation definitely isn’t going the way I would expect.”
He bristled, but he beat back the automatic rebuttal he’d started to form until he knew he would speak calmly. “I know what this looks like, Sadie. But it’s not the kidnapping situation you think it is.” He stopped himself from saying anything further because he would end up telling her something he wasn’t supposed to.
Her brows pulled together as she tried to parse his words and watched his face. He didn’t know how much of his thought process showed in his expression, but if it looked anything likethere was some kind of evil curse keeping him from spilling the beans, it would be close to accurate.
“I don’t get this. I don’t get you.” Her mouth pinched as she squinted at him, and he had the absurd thought that she was trying to read his mind.
If only.
Having her know everything might make her more willing to keep a low profile, and it would make his life a lot easier.
“I want to give you the answers, but I can’t. Not yet,” he murmured, pressing his palms flat on the counter, the cold stone leaching warmth from his skin.
His bluff about her escaping earlier had paid off, though he’d been all twisted up inside about the possibility of her leaving the seclusion of the property. It was a gamble he’d willingly taken to get her to at least start trusting him.
Because he couldn’t let her leave. Not alone, anyway. And not until he knew the coast was clear.
And based on what he knew of Zimmerman, it was far from over. His “boss” was a dogged individual who had a lot of skin in this game. Not to mention the FBI and the whole reason Chase was even tangled in this mess.
“Why can’t you?” Her eyes bored into him, and it was another gut punch. “Is it because of that phone call last night?”
He fought to keep the relief from his face that his plan had worked. Maybe she would figure it all out on her own, and he wouldn’t have to keep it from her. He said nothing.
“You asked permission to break protocol,” she continued, watching his face for any change in expression.
He held himself very still, but every cell in his body was straining to communicate with her, to confirm what she was clearly working out in her mind.
