It wasn’t enough.
“I want you to know your job is safe,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready to return to work, it’ll be here for you.”
“I appreciate that.” Grappling for her crutches, Marty struggled to her feet. “I have to go.”
“Hogan.”
She started toward the door at a clip far too fast for a woman reliant on crutches. She knew it was cowardly to run at a time like this, but she didn’t stop.
“Wait.”
Before she could get the door open, he rounded his desk, came up behind her and touched her shoulder. “Please.”
“I need to go,” she said.
“I need you to stay.”
When she didn’t respond, he squeezed gently. “I’m not very good at this. But we need to talk. About us.”
“I don’t think I can handle this right now,” she managed.
“I need to say this.” When she still didn’t look at him, he wrapped his fingers around her biceps and eased her around until they were facing each other. Dipping his head, he caught her gaze. “Please.”
She stared, hating it that she’d given him the power to hurt her. “You don’t have to spell it out. I get it.”
“Judging from the way you’re looking at me, I don’t think you do.”
For the first time since Clay had known her, she was being cautious. And
he
was the one being reckless. The irony of that didn’t elude him, but it made him smile.
“I thought we should talk about what happened between us,” he began. “At the hotel.”
She looked up at him, and Clay felt the floor shift beneath his feet. She was the only woman in the world who could do that to him. Make the world move with nothing more than a look. She could turn him inside out with a smile or touch and just the sound of her voice.
“Look,” he began, “I don’t know how to say it, so I’m just going to lay it out.”
She braced as if expecting him to fling something hurtful and unpleasant her way, and it took every bit of discipline he possessed not to pull her into his arms and kiss away the physical pain and the emotional hurt he saw in her eyes.
“I’m crazy about you,” he said.
She stared at him as if he’d just announced he was a member of the Russian Mafia and had brought her here to do away with her once and for all. He wondered how it could come as such a surprise to her. But then he was a master at concealing his feelings, even better at hiding from the truth.
“As a matter of fact,” he added, “I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.”
Marty had taken kickboxing lessons as a teenager and
sustained many a well-aimed blow. Clay’s words struck her in much the same way, a high-impact assault right between the eyes. She stared at him, her heart turning somersaults in her chest, all the while his words echoing in her ears like a love song she couldn’t get out of her head.
I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you.
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. She was so shocked that for the span of several eternal seconds, she couldn’t say anything. When she finally did, her voice was breathless. “I gotta hand it to you, Chief. You really know how to keep a girl on her toes.”
“It’s a full-time job with you.”
“That’s why you find me so irresistible.”
“One of many reasons.” His expression became thoughtful. “I didn’t realize it until the night in the hotel. It scared the hell out of me.”
“That’s why you were . . .”
“A jerk?” He offered a wry smile. “Yeah. I panicked, I guess. I kept thinking how things ended with Eve. I was afraid I was getting in over my head with you.”
“Speaking of Eve . . .” Not totally sure she wanted to know the status of his relationship with his ex-wife, Marty let her words trail.
“Eve went back to Midland day before yesterday. Left a note.”
“Like before.”
“Nothing like before.” His jaw muscles tightened. “I told her I was in love with you.”
The words elicited a sensation in her stomach she likened to the first momentous plunge of a roller-coaster ride. “I’ll bet that went over well.”
“She got it.”
“Is Erica okay with that?”
He lifted his shoulder, let it drop. “She will be. I’m sure Eve will keep in touch. She’ll probably send birthday cards and expensive gifts at Christmas from Europe or wherever.”
“You’ve got a lot of baggage in the woman department, Settlemeyer.”
He grimaced. “You’re nothing like her, Marty. You’re honest and beautiful and flawed, and those aren’t even the things I love about you most. It was never like this with Eve. Not even close. And I was a fool for not recognizing it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not like either of us has a lot of experience in that area.”
“When I almost lost you, I knew.” He set his fingers against his chest. “I knew it here. Where it counts.”
Lifting his hand to her face, he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I love you.”
A hundred emotions rippled through her, each overlapping the other, growing larger and more powerful. She looked into his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she felt special and lucky and . . . cherished. “Me, too,” she whispered. “I knew the first time you kissed me.”
“That good, huh?”
“Don’t get cocky.”
“Come here.”
Shifting her weight to her uninjured foot, Marty let her crutches clatter to the floor. She hopped once. Twice. He reached for her, put his arms around her and pulled her against him.
He kissed her hard on the mouth. “Such a risk taker.”
“Not so much,” she whispered. “I knew you’d be there to catch me.”
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OVERKILL
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / October 2007
Copyright © 2007 by Linda Castillo.