Page 37 of Luck of the Draw

“Sweetheart,” he tried again.

Her eyes slowly cracked open. A sleepy smile tugged the corners of her mouth, and she lifted her hand to hold his waist.

“Baby, what in the hell happened to you?” he clipped impatiently. “How did you get all of these injuries?”

After a microsecond pause, Skye’s sleepy eyes stretched wide. She threw the sheet over her head and hastily burrowed halfway down the mattress.

“Skye.”

“Car accident,” she blurted out, still hiding. “I wrecked my car.”

“Bullshit,” he barked. That was a mistake, but the damage was done.

She flinched under the sheet. “Please get off me,” she said in a tiny, shaking, fearful voice. “I want to leave. Please let me go.”

Brennan softened his voice. “Skye—”

“I have money. I’ll pay you for the drinks and the dinner. Please just let me go.”

He backed off and lay on his side next to her. “Sweetheart, I don’t want your money.”

The sheet was trembling. “I want to leave.”

She said it firmly, but there was a quivering teardrop at the back of her throat, and guilt gripped him.

“You’re allowed to leave whenever you want, honey. I can see that I upset and scared you. I’m sorry I reacted like that. I just can’t believe I didn’t see any of those injuries until just now. I’m really worried about you.”

Skye silently remained under the sheet.

“You don’t have to stay, Skye,” he went on. “I’d like you to, but you’re not obligated for any reason to stay or do anything you don’t want to.”

There was another stretch of silence, and then she poked her head above the edge of the sheet, displaying only her eyes. “It’s none of your business, Brennan. I didn’t come here looking for someone to save me from anything. I’m just trying to have a nice trip to get my mind off things.”

“You’re right. It’s not any of my business.” He lifted his hands in surrender. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”

She scoffed and flipped over onto her side with her bruised back to him. “Now you’re patronizing me.”

“I swear I’m not. I honestly don’t know what to do right now. I made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t see any of it because I didn’t want you to.” She huffed and pulled the sheet tight around her, making herself look like a little, human burrito. “I knew you, orwhoever, would freak out and get all up in my business if you saw it, and I’m just trying to have a good time. I don’t need a fucking interrogation, and I don’t want a white knight.”

“Okay,” Brennan acquiesced. “Do you still want to leave?”

She didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to feel obligated to stay.”

“I know I don’t,” she snapped. “I get to do whatever I want.”

“Yes, you do.” He couldn’t help wondering if that wasn’t the case wherever she’d come from. “I’ll still take you to the jazz brunch to see Oscar if you want. That’s what you came here for, right?”

“Are you planning to interrogate me the whole time?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, putting on a casual, flirtatious air in an effort to soften her, “but I might ask you to dance.”

Skye hmph-ed quietly.

“I could make us some coffee first,” he offered. “Or I could run over to the café and get us some breakfast.”

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