“I met him, spoke with him. I understand plenty. And, honey, hate to break it to you, but he already sees me as an obstacle, guaranteed.”
She was very afraid he might be right.
“Talking with him again isn’t going to make that more of a fact. But it might reinforce for him that you aren’t alone. Maybe,” he said, then more firmly when she tried to interject, “just maybe it’ll deter him.”
Out of ideas, she said, “I don’t want you to.” That sounded petulant, but damn it, how could she convince him without spilling her guts about things better kept private? “I just need to find out what he wants.” Because Carver had to want something. She couldn’t imagine what, but—
“And if he wants you?”
For a split second, her heart stalled, then started again in a rush. “Why would he after all this time? No, it has to be something else.” Though sure, once Carver found her she didn’t doubt he’d revert to his same grabby, obnoxious self. “I’m not a kid now. He can’t bully me anymore.”
Denver didn’t buy it—but then she didn’t, either.
“You’ll give me his number, okay?”
What a mess. She could really use a sounding board, but she didn’t want her friends to know about her awful upbringing. It was painful and very private. It killed her that Denver now knew.
The many worries lay heavy on her shoulders, wearing her down. “I just wanted to be with you, that’s all. And everything is screwed up. First I’m sick and now the idiots want to see me again—”
“But I’m going to take good care of you, remember?” He gently held her face. “You’re not alone, girl, so stop acting like you are.”
Right now, maybe being alone would be better. Except that she loved Denver and the thought of losing this time with him...
Exasperated, he tipped her face up and gave her another, slightly longer kiss that sent a pool of warmth through her belly and obliterated clear thought. “You’ll stay in today?”
She wanted to say no, to tell him she had a life to get back to. But she’d already called off work, her friends were all at their jobs and her body declared it time for another nap.
“Yes.” Before getting sick, she’d had a ton of energy. Staying in would have been unthinkable. Now, even with a megasexy guy kissing her senseless, she had to fight off a yawn.
“It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.” His attention went from her face to her body. Briefly, he cupped both her breasts, made a low sound in his throat, and stepped away. “I’ll be back over tonight, okay? Not sure when yet, but it won’t be real late. If anything comes up, call me.”
He expected her to think after how he’d just touched her?
“Cherry?”
She got her head to bob a few times. “All right.” She’d take her nap and maybe afterward she’d be refreshed enough for a solution to come to her. Doubtful, but she’d give it a try.
Together they walked to the door.
“Lock up behind me.”
“I will.” Even before Carver resurfaced, she and Rissy kept the doors locked.
“Cherry?” He paused in the open doorway. “I can’t imagine any male of any age not wanting you. Odds are every guy who played you for Carver did so with regrets. Know that, okay?” He pulled her in for one last, blistering taste of her mouth, then jogged down the walkway to his car.
After closing and locking the door, Cherry leaned back against it. As bad as things were right now, she realized she was smiling—because of Denver.
Now, if she could just figure out what Carver wanted, if she could deal with him and his perverse demands without drawing anyone else in as a victim, she could get back to the fantasy of finally having Denver Lewis’s attention.
* * *
A SLASH OF sunlight warmed his face and caused him to flinch when he cracked his eyes open. He closed them again, went to stretch—and stilled with agonizing aches and pains.
What the hell?
A whisper drifted past his ear: “So he ain’t dead?”
Pausing, Leese peeked his eyes open again. The sunlight blinded him, but he heard traffic and more whispers. Weird. Had he left a window open last night?
“Mister, do you need a hospital?”
That voice came entirely too close. He got one eye open and found a very dark face with wide, even darker eyes, close to his, blocking the morning sun. Startled, he sat up—and groaned. Jesus, it felt like a herd of buffalo had stampeded over him.
With another, more cautious peek, he saw that the dark face belonged to his neighbor’s ten-year-old kid. Beyond her stood another girl wearing mismatched clothes, with red pigtails and freckles everywhere.