"You couldn't have gotten your lumber so soon."
"Observant as well as intelligent," he murmured, feeling a little nasty and more than willing to take it out on her. "Eat."
She pulled out a chicken sandwich and took a token bite. Then she shoved that aside, searching through the bag past the salad, past the bread, past the corn on the cob. With a faint smile, she took out the french fries and dug in with gusto.
Cam watched in amazement. "That's the least healthy thing in there."
"I know." She ate another. And another. Then poured catsup all over them and dug in again. Her color came back.
"Eat the other stuff," he protested. "Something good for you."
"I like this," she said stubbornly. "Now tell me why you really came back."
She was stalling, but at least she didn't have that trapped-doe look in her eyes anymore. "I realized that I hadn't given you any money-"
She tensed, then wiped her fingers and shoved the food away. "I don't need your money."
The woman had enough pride to fill his gas tank. "You can't be done eating already." Her scowl deepened and he realized something horrifying-he was nagging again, just like his mother would have. "I just wanted to give you what I owed you for the work you've done."
"I never did get to the store," she said softly.
He pulled back into the lot of the minimall and turned off the engine. "Eat first, while it's hot."
When she had, he came around for her and took her hand as she alighted. He tugged gently until she looked at him. "We're going to talk, Haley. When you're done in here."
"I don't feel much like talking."
"Tough." He nodded toward the store, struggling to rein in all he was feeling. "Let's go."
"You can wait here."
"No way," he said, rubbing his sore and bruised backside. "I can't take another tackle to the pavement."
Heat flooded her face. "I don't need a guard."
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Something scared you here, you can't deny that." He put a finger to her lips when she would have done just that. "Maybe I forgot to tell you I really dislike being lied to. And I'm not leaving you alone, so forget it."
She sighed and entered the automated doors, not looking to see if he followed.
Since it seemed to be so important to her, he pretended not to notice what she threw into the shopping cart, knowing by the lovely shade of pink on her cheeks that she was embarrassed. Halfway down one aisle, he caught her giving the lipsticks a longing glance.
She protested when he stopped. "Come on, I'm done," she said, trying to tug him along.
"Hmm." He touched a fire-engine-red lipstick. "Nice color."
She rolled her eyes.
"Much as I'd love to see this on you, I don't want to have to fight off Zach."
"Don't," she mumbled, still trying to pull him away. "Just forget it."
But he was locked on the image of her in the red lipstick, with matching fingernails and toenails to boot. He caught her horrified gaze and laughed. "Okay, maybe not. But this would be pretty." He held out a light rose-colored gloss. "And I bet it tastes good, too."
At his suggestive leer, she let out a little laugh, making him realize she didn't make that pretty sound nearly often enough.
"Fine." She capitulated, grabbing it from him and tossing it in the cart. "But don't think you're ever going to taste it."
"Uh-oh." He pushed the cart toward the checkout. "Another challenge."
She just shook her head, some of the haunted look fading from her eyes.
Cam bided his time, waiting until they were back in the truck before turning to her. "I'm going to ask you again, Haley. What happened to you today?"
She fiddled with her purse, put on her seat belt, and looked everywhere but at him. "I thought someone was following me, but I was wrong. I panicked over nothing."
One of his hands was on the headrest above her. He touched her cheek softly with his other until she looked at him. God, those eyes, he thought. So clear, so absolutely full of mysteries. "Is someone following you?"
Her mouth tightened. "I don't think so. No. No one's following me."
"But it's a possibility?" he prompted.
She dragged her lip across her teeth and dropped her gaze. "Okay, look. I had trouble on my last job. One of my… coworkers sort of lost it."
"Lost it?"
"You know… went crazy."
His throat closed. His anger drained instantly to be replaced with concern. "Did he hurt you, Haley?"
"N-n-no." Again she bit her lip. "And it's a she. But either way, I don't think that's a problem because no one knows where I am. I just panicked there for a second. I'm sorry."
"Didn't you tell your boss? What kind of job was this?"
"My boss… couldn't do anything about it. Complicated policies, I guess."
Could she be more vague? "You can't be too safe. Let's call the cops."
"No!" She lowered her voice instantly. "It's not necessary. Really. She can't find me here."
He wished she'd look at him, because every instinct he had was screaming. Another damn lie. And yet… he still wanted her. Her hand rested on her thigh. He reached for it, frowning at its iciness. Bringing it up to his mouth, he ran his lips over her knuckles.
"You shouldn't do that." Her voice sounded light, whispery. And he knew how she felt because his own throat had gone dry.
"I shouldn't do a lot of things," he said, unhooking her seat belt and drawing her stiff body close. His fingers slid into her short, silky hair. "You have a way, darlin', of knotting me up inside." He bent to kiss her cheek, her jaw. And then because she smelled so good, tasted so delicious, he kissed her ear, her neck, then her jaw again.
She shivered when he skimmed his lips over hers, but kept her hands at her sides. "You really shouldn't… do that."
He smiled against her neck. "Why? You like it." Her hands moved then, to his shoulders, and he expected to be pushed away.
"I think we should go now," she whispered instead, still holding him.
"You think too much." But he gave her one last quick hug. "You'd feel better if you talked about it. Maybe your head and stomach wouldn't hurt so much."
She ducked her face as if the pain was a weakness to be embarrassed about.
"I don't like to think of you in pain."
"I'm-"
"I know," he said with a little laugh directed at himself. Idiot. "You're fine." He wanted to kiss her, had to kiss her. Watching her, being this close, he felt the urgency grow inside him until he was tense with the need of it. He wanted to plunder, dive in until neither of them knew their name, but the gentleness so deeply ingrained in him wouldn't allow it. So he glided his arms around her again and started with her chin, nipping it between his teeth, gradually moving along her face, leisurely drawing out their pleasure. He was rewarded when her body softened and leaned against his.
Her first sigh, the glorious feeling of her arms slipping around him in feminine surrender, stirred his blood. Taming the need was worth it, he decided in hazy delight, and with tormenting slowness he brought his lips back to hers. This time they parted immediately beneath his. Her shy tongue met his, and his last coherent thought was that this kiss wasn't going to be enough. He felt her clinging to him, heard her helpless moan… and he craved more.
A kiss wasn't supposed to devastate, he thought in confusion; it was supposed to satisfy. A kiss wasn't supposed to make the blood roar in his ears, or make his head swim; it should bring simple pleasure. But there was nothing simple about this. Oh, the pleasure seeped through him, but he sure as hell wasn't supposed to tremble just because she sighed his name in that low, sexy voice.
Being with a woman should be easy. Not rip a hole through his heart and leave him bleeding, helpless and needy. Carefully, purposefully, he drew away and stared at her, his world rocked by that one "simple" kiss.