Page 67 of Golden Touch
“I do feel a little guilty about that.”But only a little. “But why don’t you want me to know what you’re dealing with? This isn’t on you.”
She gulps. “I don’t like attention. And I don’t like to play the part of the victim. So this conversation is closed. Thank you for respecting that.”
“Hey now—I don’t buy that entirely. I think you used to enjoy attention as much as the next girl. But now you don’t, because you think a normal amount of attention might get you killed.”
She blinks. “That’s not a compliment, Giltmaker. No woman wants to hear that she’s a diva.”
“Never called you a diva. Don’t put words in my mouth. Butthe first time we almost met, you were different. The woman I saw across the bar last fall is therealLivia. She likes a party. She knows how to flirt.”
“That was…” She sighs. “That was a fluke.”
“Nah,” I insist. “Your party vibe isn’t the only thing you suppress, either. You’re more competent than most people, and probably wouldn’t mind a little recognition. But you’re hiding in my father’s office instead of finding a job that would use you to your full potential.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just because you hate working for your father’s brewery doesn’t mean I do.”
“Didn’t say that either,” I point out. “But you’ve been keeping your head down for so long that you probably forgot what it’s like to go wherever you want and make new friends. Besides—you’re at the mercy of this place and this family. Leila asked you to share the pumphouse for a few weeks, and you said yes because you didn’t think you had a choice.”
She shrugs. “It’s fine, Nash. We’ve been over this.”
“Nothing that happened to you isfine. And you had to let my ass into the pumphouse as a roommate? It couldn’t have been easy for you to open the door to a stranger. Not after…”
She raises both hands, as if to shut me up. “I’m not afraid of you. And you don’t have to apologize forhim.”
That stops me in my tracks for a second. Because that’s exactly how I feel right now—like the world owes her an apology, and I want her to have it.
Not sure why I think it falls to me. I guess I’ll worry about that later. For now, I reach out and lift Livia off her chair and pull her into my lap.
She lets out a little shriek of surprise. “God, warn a girl. I could have spilled my coffee.”
“And I would have made you another cup.” I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her neck. “I’m sorry there’s an entitled psychopath after you. I’m sorry he put you through a terrible time.”
She sighs, but she’s still holding herself stiffly. “I appreciate the sentiment. But he’s not your problem.”
“He is if I say he is.”
“What? No,” she yelps. “You can’t tag me like a deer. That’s entitled. That’s somethinghe’dsay.”
“Didn’t say I owned you. Didn’t tell you not to leave. I realize I’m not entitled to get you naked again and have my filthy way with you. That’s your call. Although, given the scratch marks down my back, I’m thinking you’ll have another go eventually. My pussycat has claws.”
She lets out a low growl. But at the same time, her body melts against mine.
“I only said it was my choice whether or not I try to nail the dickhead who’s stalking you, and his dickhead friends if they turn up again on my property. I hate bullies. Hope he comes back, so I can show him how much.”
CHAPTER 28
LIVIA
I can’t help myself. I sag against Nash’s chest, because it’s strong and warm and also convenient. Although I can’t keep leaning on this man. He’s going to get tired of me and all my drama.
For the moment, though, he’s brushing the hair off my neck and kissing my jaw. Which is not going to solve anything. “Nash, we should go back to work. The beer won’t brew itself.”
“But you smell so good. Like sunshine and sex.”
“I do not,” I insist, nudging his questing mouth away from my neck. “I showered.”
“Wishful thinking, then.”
I laugh in spite of myself. And Nash—that jerk—uses this petty distraction to kiss me. The man has a sinful mouth and generous lips, and the moment his mouth finds mine, I lean into the kiss.
