Margo snorted.
“The woman thinks I walk on water. I don’t understand it, but—”
“Rowdy.”
He smiled. “Secondly, I had a shit childhood. You maybe know that. Maybe not. I’m not going into detail, but understand that it was pretty bad.”
She rolled in her lips and dared a look at him. So close that she could count the eyelashes on his beautiful eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too. Thing is, I think you know something about that. For you it wasn’t the same. You had a house and clothes and...parents. But it wasn’t fun for you, either. It wasn’t the way it should have been.”
She definitely couldn’t compare herself to Rowdy’s background. “I don’t see how—”
“When I couldn’t smother away the bad memories, I tried to f**k them away.”
Well...there was a confession. More attentive, she listened.
“For the most part, I was successful. Screwing was the best way I knew to block a bad memory. I could so easily lose myself in a woman.”
Just as she lost herself in Dash. “Rowdy...”
He pressed a finger to her lips and continued. “A nice lady or a bitch. A beauty or just some gal who was willing. Didn’t matter if I liked her or not because all I wanted was a lay.”
She removed his hand. “A quick lay?”
His smile went cocky. “Can’t really block heavy-duty nightmares with a quickie, now can I? But the point is that I used women.”
She wasn’t exactly surprised. Rowdy’s sexuality was a blatant part of him, pretty much up front and in your face. “I doubt the ladies complained over that.”
Grin widening, he shrugged. “Mostly they just complained when it ended. But my point—because I do have one—is that you and I are kindred spirits.”
Fearing he might be right, she tried to joke her way around his understanding. “Actually, I’m not into women.”
“No, I have a feeling you’re into something altogether different. Not entirely about sex, but maybe more about losing the responsibility for a while.”
Her blood surged and her eyes narrowed. “Did Dash talk to you?”
Pitying her, Rowdy shook his head. “You know better—and it’d piss Dash off to know you even suggested such a thing.”
Blowing out a breath, Margo dropped her head back onto his thick biceps. It felt kind of nice—comforting, warm, safe—to be held by Rowdy Yates. She could see why his sister, Reese’s wife and Rowdy’s wife had all so easily fallen under his protective umbrella.
But she was different. For her entire life she hadn’t needed anyone. No way was she ready to give up that persona. Not yet.
Not with Rowdy.
She turned her head. “So what are you saying?”
“My life changed so much for the better when I met Avery. I would never do anything to hurt her. I love her. More than life. More than I even knew was possible.”
“You still have nightmares?”
“Sometimes. The shit I remember...it’s a part of me, so I doubt it’ll ever go away. But to deal with it, all I need is Avery, not some string of nameless women.”
Knowing where he was going with this, she shook her head. “And you think all I need is Dash?”
His expression gentled and he tightened his hold. “I think for a badass cop who wallows in taking control with an iron fist, at heart you’re a coward.”
That awful accusation hit her like a slap. Stunned, and then infuriated, she said, “I’m not—”
“And,” Rowdy emphasized, cutting her off, “if you’re not a coward, if I’m somehow wrong—or if I’m right and you want to correct things—then you’ll go and talk to Dash.”
She prepared to lambaste him. God knew he had it coming. She even had her mouth open to do just that.
But Rowdy watched her, his brows pinched with the seriousness of his claim, waiting to see if she’d own up, or deny it...like a coward.
“Damn.”
The stern expression eased. He even smiled. She saw it in his eyes, how he expected her to man up and accept it. And she did.
“There you go,” he said gently. “There’s that backbone of steel.”
Stupid, lame, crybaby tears blurred her vision.
Rowdy pulled her closer against his hard chest, his hand on the back of her head, his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. He didn’t tell her not to cry. He didn’t tell her everything would be okay.
Rowdy was more honest than that.
“Much as you’re suffering, I can promise you that it’s worse for Dash. He’s fought every instinct known to man to be there for you in whatever way you needed, and still you cut him out.”
Unable to squeeze a single word out for fear it’d be a squeaky, choking sob, she shook her head.
“No?”
She shook her head again. She hadn’t cut him out. Never that. She didn’t even think such a thing was possible. Not talking to him pained her. Not seeing him was worse.
Even during her job, while dealing with the seriousness of a major investigation, he’d been on her mind.
But she had given in to the fear. She’d hidden away.
A coward. A miserable, lowly coward.
It took several deep breaths before she felt confident she could talk without disgracing herself. “What if he doesn’t love me?”
“Know what you should do?” He kissed her forehead. “Go to him. Right now. Ask him outright.”
“Put myself out of my misery?”
His gravelly laugh was a sound more of compassion than humor. “Yeah, something like that.” Then he tipped up her chin.
Margo knew what he saw. She was a terrible crier. Nothing pretty about it.
His smile went crooked. “Aw, hon.” Using his thumb, he brushed away the tears. “I know how you feel, not wanting to put too much stock in love. But I can vouch for the awesomeness of it. All you have to do is trust Dash.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“You’re a female. You don’t have to say anything. Just go to him, strip off your clothes and lead him to bed. Men are not as complicated as women. Trust me, he’ll get the message.”
She laughed around her uncertainty. “You are so sexist.”
He shrugged. “After you’ve both let off steam and your brains are temporarily blank of the external problems, then you can talk.”
Yes. Yes, that’s what she wanted to do. She put her arms around Rowdy and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”
Unfortunately, that’s precisely when Dash opened her door and stepped in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WHAT THE FUCK.
Dash looked from Rowdy’s smirking face to Margo’s wide-eyed shock, and he lifted both brows.
He’d figured Margo was lying low, that she was probably second-guessing him and even herself. She wouldn’t answer her phone, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home, or even that she was busy. He’d checked with Logan first and found out that she’d finished her day an hour ago. They were overloaded, yes. Logan confirmed it. But she wasn’t working literally around the clock. She could have called him if she’d wanted to.
With everything she’d gone through, she had good reason for wanting to take a time-out. But it had been a week and his patience was gone. And so he’d come to find her.
But he had not expected to find her... Well, like that. Wrapped around another man, all cozy and intimate.
For a suspended moment in time, Margo looked stricken. Then suddenly she was disengaging from Rowdy so quickly that she elbowed him in the throat before getting to her feet.
Rowdy, always unpredictable, just laughed.
So maybe Rowdy had been...what? Comforting her?
Yeah, her eyes looked red. Dash stepped closer. Shit, she’d been crying. And she’d gone to Rowdy instead of him.
Knowing that, made him want to act like a caveman, breaking shit and beating on people until he made her feel better.
Of course, he wouldn’t do that. The people he wanted to beat on weren’t available. And even if they were, he probably couldn’t demolish them.
Despite everything, she loved her father. That’s why it hurt her so much. And Dan was locked up, well out of his reach. West...Logan said her brother was trying. He couldn’t ask for more than that.
Rowdy, other than seeming to have an affinity for comforting every woman within his realm, didn’t really deserve his anger.
Margo said, her voice husky, “Dash?”
At the same time Oliver left the couch and walked over to wind around his legs. “Hey, puppy-cat.” Dash scooped him up. At least the cat was purring in happiness, glad to see him.
In less of a hurry, Rowdy pushed to his feet. “Do I need to tell you that it isn’t what it looks like?”
Dash shook his head and said, without much venom, “Get out.”
“Right.” As he went past, Rowdy leaned in and said, “You can thank me later.” Dash heard the front door close. Still holding Oliver, he studied Margo. She wore his T-shirt...without a bra. The big shirt swam on her, making her skinny jeans look even slimmer—and sexy as hell.
But first things first.
He sat the cat back on the couch and went to lock the front door. Once he got things started with Margo, he didn’t want any interruptions.
When he turned back again, she had the shirt off and was working on her skinny jeans. With every anxious movement, her full br**sts moved enticingly.
Whoa. He had a lot to say to her, but if she got naked, all bets were off. “Hold up, honey.”
“No.” She pushed the jeans down, favoring her arm a little, until they caught on her ankles. Without much finesse she tried to kick out of them, lost her balance and fell back on the couch.
In a peach-colored thong. God help him.
Oliver hissed, jumped down and went to his bed to groom himself. He watched the cat a moment while he tried to recover from the sight of her with her jeans down.
He worked up the willpower to face her just in time to watch her toss the jeans aside. She reached for that skimpy thong, but he came down over her, catching her hands and pressing her into the couch.
“Sorry,” he said. “But I need a minute.”
Breathing hard, she stared up at him. “One minute.”
She was so beautiful, even with blotchy cheeks and puffy red eyes. “You were crying.”
Her chin lifted. “So? I’m a woman.”
Rubbing himself against her, Dash said, “Yeah. Noticed.” But what did she mean? “You’ve never cried before.”
“There are a lot of things I’d never done before...before you. Let me get naked and we can talk about it later.”
Apparently he had some catching up to do. “So I made you cry?”
“No.”
He waited, but she said nothing more. “Why are you throwing off your clothes?”