Page 27 of Rescued Dreams
Amelia wandered inside and left him to his confusion—and their dinner order. She found the broom in her hall closet, and her footsteps echoed down the empty hall to the sitting room. Whatever this one would’ve been called. More of the same bare floor. Nothing on the walls. No window coverings or furniture.
Glass had shattered across the floor under the window where a metal radiator would’ve provided heat to the room generations ago. She’d disconnected it all because it was far too expensive to heat the entire house.
Besides, her room had its own fireplace.
She got all the glass in the dustpan and turned to find Ridge in the doorway. “Guess you think you know all my secrets now.” She straightened and realized…“How do you know where I live? I’ve never told anyone. The address in my file is a PO Box.” There was only one way. “You followed me?”
“Kane and Maria, his fiancée.” Ridge didn’t seem to feel guilty about it at all. In fact, he leaned against the wall like this was a casual conversation. “I asked them to keep an eye on you until the end of my shift. Just in case those guys came back for another try.”
She flinched and wasn’t able to stop it.
“What happened here? And how come you live in this house?”
“Who says I live in this house?”
He looked at the dustpan and broom, then lifted his gaze to her face.
“Move out of the doorway so I can go dump this in the trash.”
He followed her, his boots a dull echo on the floor behind her. That’s why she hadn’t added rugs, even though the floors got cold. No one could move silently through this monstrosity of a house.
“If you must know”—at least for the sake of not dragging it out—“this is a family house.” Amelia stepped on the foot lever, and the lid of the trash can flipped up. Empty kitchen, just like the rest of the house. The backsplash was way outdated. She watched enough home decor TV shows to know that. But the wide farmhouse sink was a work of art.
“Where’s your fridge?”
Amelia said, “Not in here.”
“Can you please start explaining?”
She set the broom aside. Problem was, if she started talking, Amelia was worried she might not stop. “It’s my life. No one else needs to worry about it. I can take care of my own problems.”
“I’m not gonna argue with that. But sometimes even the most capable person needs help.” He continued before she could respond to that. “I know this house belonged to the former chief. The one who was a criminal. He held this town in a chokehold, he and his buddies. I’ve read all those stories, even if it was a long time ago.”
“Welcome to the real, in-person next installment. Hopefully it’s the conclusion, because I’m so over having this house broken into.” Amelia sighed. “I’ve put it on the market half a dozen times, but no one will buy it because he lived here. I get three or four calls a week in September and October, people asking if they can use the house for a Halloween party or some kind of haunted house where they’re going to charge way too much for people to walk through and have the business scared out of them.”
“A family house.” He kept his expression impassive. She could tell he was burning with curiosity.
“You’ve never told me much about your family,” she pointed out. “I’ve never seen your house, and I don’t know where your apartment is.”
“I moved a while back because my sisters came to live with me. I live in a town house now.”
“See.” She lifted her hands, then let them fall back to her sides. “I didn’t even know that.”
“What’s your point?”
Amelia leaned her hips back against the linoleum counter. “I’m supposed to tell you everything about my personal life, but the fact is, you don’t share any more readily than I do.”
They were pretty well matched as far as she could see. If he got her to tell him all about her family and who they were, or the whole of what had happened in Benson with her ex-boyfriend—which was another story entirely—then was he going to reciprocate?
Would he tell her what made him guarded so that he didn’t want to let people into his personal life easily? It wasn’t bad or wrong to be a private person. Nor did it have to be about self-preservation or boundaries put in place after trauma. Could just be how he wanted to live. Separating personal and professional parts of his life.
But she wanted to know it all.
The same way he seemed to want to know about her life, even if it was only about making sure Truck 14 was good. That the team was safe. Enabling the police to stop whatever was happening to them.
He didn’t want to be part of her life. Not anymore. She’d ruined any chance they might’ve had by cutting things off last time. This was only Ridge doing his job.
If she did let him in, she would either learn he wasn’t worth it, or she’d discover he was and fall for him all over again.
