Page 93 of Capturing You
“Please, don’t go.”
At the kindness in his tone, so contrary to his harshness a moment before, tears spilled over and down her cheeks.
Crying twice in the same day. In the samehour.In front of this man who already saw her as weak.
She didn’t want him to see her tears.
And she didn’t want to leave.
He shifted to stand in front of her. “Please.” He swallowed again. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you to trust the wrong people.”
“Maybe I already am.” She swiped tears from her face, then looked up at him. “Nathan seems to think so. You want me to distrust him. He wants me to distrust you. Maybe I shouldn’t trust anyone.”
His gaze roamed her face. Maybe seeing the remnants of tears, he blinked and stepped back. He dropped his hand from her arm.
She missed the contact, which made her the biggest fool in the world.
“You’re right.” No hesitation in his words. “I’d prefer you distrust everyone than trust anyone. The cop’s not wrong. Only a local would know about your relationship with Lois Whitmore. Whoever sent those thugs to her house last night knew about your friendship with her. You can’t trust anyone.”
“‘Anyone’ includes you, you know.”
“That’s fair. If you want to leave, I get it. My offer stands. I can take you anywhere you want. You just can’t go home. Not until it’s safe.” He backed up and leaned on the desk. “I’m really sorry about”—he waved toward her chair as if their conversation hovered there—“my stupid remark. I was just…”
“Being stupid?”
There was his lip-twitch. “What else is new?”
“You’re not stupid. You need to work on your cultural references, but I can forgive that.”
His expression sobered. “Can you? Forgive me? I was… I think I’m a little…” He shook his head, grunted. “It’s nice you trust everyone. It’s nice you’re so…nice. Also, stop it.”
“Stop trusting people. Got it. Can I write that down?”
He ignored her sarcasm. “Why are you smiling?”
She hadn’t realized she was. But he’d apologized, something her ex-boyfriend would never have done in a million years.
Not that she was comparing them. Not that Ford would waste his time on someone like her. “I guess I’m just a happy person.”
“You’re in danger. You’re trapped in this house with me. You’re being stalked by a jerk. You’re just…” He seemed to grope for a word, landing on, “…impossible.”
“I’m happy.”
“It’s annoying.”
“You love it.”
He looked away, and she could swear he almost smiled.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
There’d been a moment, a brief moment, when Brooklynn had looked at Forbes like he might be an enemy.
It made sense, considering she’d only known him for three days, and all she knew about him came from what he’d told her.
Meaning most everything she believed about him was a lie. She seemed discerning enough to know something wasn’t right, even if she didn’t know exactly what.
Forbes. Ford. They were the same person. He was using his alias, sure, but his personality was the same.
