Page 91 of Fighting the Pull

“I think we should focus on you,” he evaded.

“Okay,” she said readily.

“But, babe, my last name is Wheeler.”

She reached out and laid her hand on his forearm that was resting on the counter. “I’d always wondered about that.”

“As you know, it’s Mom’s maiden name. She hated my dad so much, it started before I was born. They got a divorce when she was pregnant with me, and she denied him something at the very least he had half rights to give to me. And that was when it began. Before I was even born. So…”

He let that trail.

Her fingers tightened on his arm.

“Okay, that’s enough on that for tonight,” she said gently.

“I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you’re a shockingly bad gossip monger,” he joked.

“I know.” She fake pouted. “My skills are failing me.”

He leaned in to give her a quick kiss.

When he leaned back, he again got serious.

“I’m sorry all that shit is happening with your family.”

She did a quick shrug, let his forearm go and took another sip of her wine.

“You want a tour of the whole apartment?” he offered.

She shot him the side eye. “Is it ending in your bedroom?”

“Yes, but although I had grand schemes of sliding into home tonight, and I’d like to invite you to sleep beside me if you want, after the night you had, I’m not going to make any moves.”

“Disappointing,” she pouted that word into her wineglass.

“You’re open to make any moves you like.”

She set smiling eyes on him.

Then she slid off the stool, hooked arms with him to pull him off his, and taking their wineglasses with them she led him to the staircase.

“All right then, Mr. Wheeler, dazzle me with your lair.”

He set about doing that, and as he did it, he found he had new eyes about the space himself. Because she was dazzled, almost girlish with it, and it made it so fun, it was the first time he was proud to show the place off.

Though, he suspected, that feeling mostly had to do with being glad, after the night she had, she could come to him, and being in his space made her happy.

CHAPTER15

SIXTH SENSE WAS ELSA

Hale

The next morning, Hale heard her phone alarm then felt her shift, her hair sliding along the skin of his chest.

He then felt her lips touch him there before she moved away.

He caught her wrist, tugged her back, and rolled so he was covering her.

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