Crystal slowed to a walk, braced her hands on her hips, and turned around. “We should be good here,” she said.
Shane was right there. Fingers gently cupped her chin and tilted it up. This close, the clean scent of soap and leather and man washed over her. “You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. Truth was, she wanted to be okay, but she was kinda jumping out of her skin. Because she was about to cross some lines from which there would be no return.
His gaze narrowed, and he leaned closer yet, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I don’t like that you don’t feel safe to meet in your own apartment,” he said, gray eyes flashing.
Crystal shrugged. “Can’t be helped. For now.”
“You let me know how I can help with that. Just say the word. You hear?” No judgment. No unsolicited advice. Just a free and clear offer of assistance on her terms. His tone was a dark promise that curled around her and made her want to be closer, especially as his gaze warmed with unfettered interest that had her blood pumping harder. But that wasn’t what they were here for. That wasn’t what they were about at all.
But that didn’t mean a part of her didn’t want it. The foreign desire lanced panic through her blood and scattered her thoughts . . .
“How’s Jenna?” he asked, dropping his hand, like he knew she’d gotten tripped up in his words and needed a reprieve.
“Wiped out, but up and about. She’d pulled an all-nighter . . .” Crystal let the words drift off, unsure why she’d told him the cause behind the seizure. Why would he care, anyway?
Shane frowned. “Well, at least you know the whys of it.”
“Yeah,” she said. “So . . .”
He stepped closer, close enough she had to tilt back her head to maintain eye contact. Normally, a man’s invading her space triggered her fight-or-flight reflex. With Shane, the panicky fear whirled in the background of her mind, but there was an instinctive sense of safety, too. Probably ridiculous.
“Thank you for calling,” he said.
“You don’t know what I’m going to say yet.”
For a moment, something seemed to flash through his eyes. But then it was gone, and she wasn’t sure exactly what she’d seen. Probably nothing, as freaked out as she was. Besides, she didn’t know him well enough to read his face, his eyes, his expression, the way she could Bruno.
“True, but no matter what, I know you’re taking a risk. And I want you to know it’s recognized and appreciated.” The breeze blew a loose strand of her hair across her face, and Shane tucked it behind her ear.
Crystal’s heart squeezed. In just a few words, he made her feel more valued than she’d felt in years. A wind gust kicked up around them, swirling more wisps of hair around her face pulled loose from her low ponytail. Why couldn’t she have a life where she could be with a man like this? Maybe next year, once she’d started over. Yeah, but then it won’t be Shane . . .
True.
And they’d be on the run, so it wasn’t like she’d get to leave all the lies behind, was it? What kind of basis was that for a relationship?
Needing a break from the intensity of his gaze, Crystal glanced down at his chest. Under his black jacket, he wore a threadbare black T-shirt that looked as soft and comfortable as it did old. It was the kind of shirt that invited you to snuggle up against its wearer, or to steal and sleep in it. She almost smiled.
“When you let down your guard, you have the most expressive face,” Shane said, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. The man seemed to revel in touching her in lots of different small ways. Rather than making her feel invaded, Shane’s gentleness made her feel special in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before.
All the same, Crystal schooled her expression, not sure what she might’ve been giving away but knowing it couldn’t have been anything good.
Shane laughed. “I guess if I want you to let down your guard, I shouldn’t mention it, huh?”
She peered up at him. “Why would you want me to let down my guard?”
He studied her for a long moment. “For all kinds of reasons it might be counterproductive to voice, darlin’.” His tone was part promise, part threat.
“Like what?” She braced her hands on her hips, but he just shook his head. “That’s not fair. Tell me.”
He closed the gap between them, the open edges of his jacket brushing against her light blue tank top. “Really want to know?”
No, you don’t. You really don’t, Crystal. Heart thundering against her breastbone, she nodded.
“Like you’re beautiful. And I’m attracted to you. And I’m worried about you and your sister. For starters. How’s that?”
For starters? Geez, what else could there be?
Her heart tripped into a sprint, and the heat rising to her skin had nothing to do with the warmth of the afternoon or the jog through the woods. She didn’t know which affected her most, that he thought her beautiful, that he maybe wanted her as much as she wanted him, or that he actually cared about her and her sister. The combination was dizzying and terrifying and the kind of thing she might’ve dreamed up to hear from a man. But then she remembered the scars on her back and knew he wouldn’t feel the same if he saw them. Or, worse, knew how she’d gotten them. She glanced away. “Oh.”
Shane flashed that charming grin that had probably stolen a fair share of hearts in his lifetime. “Yeah. Oh.”
As casually as she could, she retreated a step. The light of the afternoon dimmed, and overhead, the sky grew overcast. A spring storm was rolling in. Time to say what she needed to say so she could get home again. “So, uh, what I wanted to tell you was that I learned something last night,” Crystal rushed out, needing to distract herself from Shane’s honesty. And his interest. It hurt too much to flirt with something she could never have.
Hands landed on the bare skin of her biceps. “Crystal, breathe for me. Just relax.” Shane gently squeezed—
Crystal sucked in a breath as the fingers on his left hand pressed into the very spot where Bruno had grabbed her the night before.
“What?” he said, yanking his touch away. Grasping her hands, he lifted and turned her arms, looking . . . She knew the minute he found the marks on the outside of her right arm. They weren’t dark—not like the time Jenna had learned the kind of man Bruno really was—but the fury that rolled in across his expression told her he had a good idea what had caused them. “He hurt you again,” he said, voice seething.
Shame made heat rise to her cheeks, and she knew they must be absolutely flaming from the feel of it. “Somehow he knew you were in the apartment last night. That’s why I brought you out here.”
“Who’s he?” he growled, brows slashed downward. In the distance, thunder rumbled long and low, almost lazily.
Gently pulling her hands out of his, she hugged herself. “His name is Bruno.”
He scoffed. “Figures. This can’t go on, Crystal.”
Jenna’s words echoed in her ears, fueling her embarrassment and stirring up her anger, too. “I know,” she snapped. “I’m working on it. And it’s none of your business anyway.” She pushed past him. This had been such a freaking mistake.
“Wait. Please don’t go. I’m sorry,” he called, his voice gentling.
The regret and earnestness in his voice froze her in place.
“I didn’t mean to criticize you, Crystal. I just cannot abide violence against women. Period. Especially not someone I know.” A long pause. “And definitely not someone I like.” After everything that had happened to her, the words were a balm for her psyche.
Footsteps came up behind her, slowly, cautiously, like she was a wild animal who would bolt in an instant. And she supposed there was some truth to that analogy.