Page 28 of Love Undercover
And the more she talked, the softer his expression became. He transformed from that brooding, intimidating man to someone who could settle in and chat about mundane things.
He encouraged her to keep going, asked her probing questions about why and what and how and who.
It had been a long time since she’d had that kind of rapt attention, to have someone validate the work she did as rewarding, not just a waste of her mind and talent and time. Like it was some hobby until she got a real job. And she found herself believing that maybe he was actually interested in what she had to say.
She only stopped when she realized the light in the room was diffused, the sun having made its trip from one side of the house to the other, signaling the end of the day. And she noted how calm she was, sitting on the couch instead of pacing, the nervous energy in her body quieted by the constant flow of words.
She felt the heat in her cheeks. “Oh, crackers, I’ve been talking for a really long time. I’m sorry.”
He looked relaxed too, his arms stretched over the back of the couch, one foot up on the coffee table. “Don’t be sorry.” His smile was soft, almost affectionate.
And, jeez, that and the way it felt sort of natural to be sitting together, chatting, made a warmth build in her chest.
“Are you getting hungry?” he asked, leaning forward.
“A little,” she admitted. “I feel bad that you’re always cooking for me.” The words were out before she could stop them.
He laughed. “Like I’d give you access to the knives.”
She smiled a little. “That would fly in the face of kidnapper protocol.”
“You’re familiar with the code,” he said, raising a brow.
She lifted a shoulder. “Podcasts are my thing.”
“Is it a How To Successfully Kidnap Someone podcast?”
She sputtered a laugh. “No. True Crime.”
“Same thing.” He shrugged, walking around the island to open a drawer. Out came a pen and a pad of paper, which he set on the counter.
She stared at the items quizzically.
“My limited supplies are dwindling rapidly,” he said. “Write down anything you’d like me to get at the store. I plan to go in the morning.”
He couldn’t be serious. She was an idiot for complaining about his non-organic, non-pasture-raised eggs, non-grass-fed beef, and his pesticide coffee.
Even though those things absolutely mattered to her, she wasn’t sure what had possessed her to even say anything to the man who’d kidnapped her, honorable intentions or not—was that even a thing?
But, depending on what the plan was moving forward, she might need only a couple of things, or she might need a lot. A chill swept through her at the reminder about the big question mark that loomed.
“How long are you going to keep me here?”
His body went rigid as if she’d shot a bullet of accusation at him instead of a subdued and completely valid question. He was apparently bothered that she might think of the whole thing in even a remotely negative light.
“I’m not sure yet,” he said through a tight jaw. “This was not exactly part of my plan. But it will at least be a few days while I gauge the level of danger.”
She struggled to stand with the heaviness that settled over her, but she managed and then padded to the counter, rolling the word “danger” over and over in her mind. When she passed him, only a few inches between them, she swore he sucked in and held a breath. Her eyes shot to his as his heat pressed into her, but she tore her gaze away, focusing on her task.
Picking up the pen and tipping it back and forth in her fingers, she directed her thoughts. Deodorant and soap. Because she already stunk, despite her attempts at freshening up. Being in the trunk in the middle of summer, scared and trying to break free, had drawn out a nervous sweat that felt tattooed into her skin.
Toothpaste. There was no way she was going to use the poison-filled popular brands. After her mom’s bout with cancer and the things they’d learned about environmental toxins, she’d done her best to avoid them. Teeth and mouth health flowed to the body, influencing so much more than just the commonly known heart issues relating to gum disease.
Lotion.
He moved closer, the heat at her back unmistakable. “I have a lot of this stuff here already.”
She turned a little, and he was much closer than she’d anticipated he’d be. Inches. Centimeters. Just a breath between them. Her lips parted, and the muted green of his eyes flashed brighter, emerald jewels in his handsome face.
