Hot pink toenails? He really was losing his perspective if that set him off.
She looked happy and relaxed which annoyed him on principle. He counted the fading dark circles under her eyes as a personal victory, though he was more than a little jealous she’d managed a decent night’s sleep.
“I’m, uh...” He tried to focus on her face in general, but her bright smile didn’t make anything easier. He topped off his coffee and tried again. “I’m heading out. Need to recover that bullet.”
“Want some help?”
“No,” he said too quickly. “I’d like you to stay here and look at some pictures Eva sent in.” After reading Rick’s email, he’d opened the message from Eva, complete with attachments of mug shots. “The computer is ready whenever you are.”
“Have some breakfast first. Please?”
How was a man supposed to keep his distance—or his sanity—when she looked at him like that? He had to be smart here, but his body would be just as happy if he’d give in to the urge to be stupid.
He wasn’t a randy kid anymore, he had better sense and well-honed instincts as an adult. Too bad they’d both gone AWOL the minute Allie had reappeared in his life.
“More gang bangers?”
“Huh?”
“The pictures from Eva,” she clarified.
“Oh. Yeah. But she’s hoping you’ll recognize someone in the mix and we can put a name with a face. Or two.”
“I’m not likely to ever forget the guy from the treadmill incident.”
Ross smiled at her term for that nasty moment in her life. “I used to envy your memory.” Once the words were out, he wanted to snatch them back. Between his lack of sleep and his lusty reactions to things like toe nail polish, he knew memories good and bad should be avoided at all costs.
“That did make some things easier,” Allie said with a grin as she scooped eggs onto a plate and added four thick slices of bacon. “Biscuits will be out in a minute.”
“You have been busy.”
“You too, it sounds like.”
He accepted the offered plate, though he knew sticking close was a bad idea. Truth was, the food smelled too good to ignore. “Reminds me of those days we’d come back to the Rooster during hunting season.”
What was wrong with him? He’d been avoiding a trek down the mine field that was their memory lane since he’d had to reveal himself to her back at her aunt’s house.
“Aunt Ruth was convinced you had a hollow leg the way you inhaled all that food.”
Ross bit into a strip of bacon and shoveled some eggs in after it to keep from replying. He should feel relieved that she was blatantly avoiding the topic he’d cracked open, but the annoyance spread like poison ivy, making him itchy and grumpy. Leave it alone, he chanted in his head. Too late. Overtired, the long-buried despair and temper broke loose and charged to the surface.
“Why the hell didn’t you ever write to me?” He felt his face heating with embarrassment and took a little too much satisfaction when she dropped the pan of biscuits on the floor. Still, he repeated the question. She owed him an answer.
The baking sheet hit the sink with a violent crash. “How dare you,” she hissed at him. “I wrote you letters every day, waiting for an address to send them to.”
Bull. Though her body language implied she believed it, he knew it wasn’t true. Couldn’t be true. He shook his head. “Impressive. You must have practiced that line a long time.”
“No. I practiced others.”
“Really?” Breakfast forgotten, he watched her sweep up the crumbs. “Share a few?”
“I forgive you.” She filled the dustpan. “Let’s start over.” Dumped it into the trash. “Today matters more than yesterday.” Her hands were steady as she clipped the dustpan back to the broom handle, but her eyes glittered with unshed tears when she finally met his gaze. “I still love you.”
“What?” Her voice had cracked on that last one. His own throat was clogged with his stupid heart. “What did you say?”
“Nothing important. Guess I’m out of practice.” She turned, putting the broom away. “I’ll leave the rest of the cleaning to you,” she said, and walked out of the kitchen.
“Wait, Allie! That makes no sense. I wrote to you every week from basic.”