voice, which had earlier sounded like thunder, now struck her as black velvet, dark and rich.
âOnly part?â she asked, even though she sensed she might be getting into dangerous territory here.
âWell, there is another part.â
âWhich is?â
He set his mug down. âIt seems odd to find a woman so terrified in a place like this.â
She gasped and drew back. His gaze never left her face, and he didnât wait for a denial or even any response at all.
âI know terror,â he continued. âIâve seen it, smelled it, tasted it. You reek of it.â
She felt her jaw drop, but she couldnât think of one damn thing to say, because he was right. Right.
âSorry,â he said after a moment. âI suppose I have no business saying things like that.â
Damn straight, she thought, wishing sheâd never asked him if he wanted coffee. Wishing sheâd never agreed to share a house with him. Those dark eyes of his saw too much. Way too much.
Heâd stripped her bare. Anger rose in her and she glared at him. How dare he? But then, hadnât she all but asked for it?
He looked down at his mug, giving her a break from his stare, from his acute perception.
She thought about getting up and walking into her bedroom and locking the door. Hiding, always hiding. The thought stiffened her somehow, and instead of fleeing she held her ground. âIs it that obvious?â
He shook his head. âProbably not to anyone who hasnât been where Iâve been. Except for when you got that call, you put on a pretty good act.â
âMy entire life is an act,â she heard herself snap.
He nodded, and when he looked at her again something in his gaze tugged at her, something that reached toward her and tried to pull her in. She looked quickly away. None of that. She didnât dare risk that.
âLook,â he said finally, âI donât mean to upset you. I just want you to knowâ¦â He trailed off.
She waited, but when he didnât continue, she finally prodded him. âWant me to know what?â
âIâm not useless. Far from it. So ifâ¦if you need help, well, Iâm here.â Then he poured a little more coffee in his mug and rose, carrying the mug away with him.
She listened to him climb the creaky stairs and wondered what the hell had just happened.
Â
Wade made up his bed with the skill of long years of practice in the navy. Perfectly square corners, the blankettight enough to bounce a quarter off. His drawers were just as neat, everything was folded to fit a locker though, so the items didnât exactly match the drawers, but the stacks were square.
Old habits die hard, and six months of retirement hadnât killed any of them.
He sat on the wood chair in the corner of the room, and focused his mind like a searchlight on the present, because looking back got him nowhere, and the future seemed impossible to conceive.
That woman downstairs was as scared as any green combat troop heâd ever seen. As scared as the women and kids heâd seen in situations he didnât want to remember.
He hadnât expected to find that here. Hadnât bargained on the feelings it would resurrect. Heâd come to this damn county in the middle of nowhere because Seth Hardin had promised heâd find peace and solitude, and that everything here was as far from his past as he could possibly get.
Right.
Apparently Seth hadnât known about this woman. Corinne Farland. Cory. Regardless, who the hell would have thought that heâd find this mess through the simple act of renting a room?
He leaned over and lifted the coffee mug from the top of the dresser, draining half of it in one gulp. Good coffee.
The back of his neck prickled a little as he thought about the situation, and he never ignored it when the back of his neck prickled. That sensation had saved his skin more than once, or someone elseâs