by Kylie Scott
“Anyway, you need a bath.”
Her neck and face flushed, as the muscles around her mouth moved. The play of colors beneath her dirty skin fascinated him.
“Can you get out of my face for one minute?”
“Sorry, sorry. Though wouldn’t you feel better cleaned up? Then we can see to that scratch.” Daniel gave her his most trustworthy face, hooking a finger in a hole above the hem of her pants leg in case of failure. “Maybe some new clothes, too? What do you say?”
She sniffed disdainfully. “I wasn’t sure if they hunted by scent, or … it was a safety precaution. Messing around with hair and make-up didn’t seem wise, given the circumstances.”
“I don’t think they track by scent. Mostly they seem to rely on sight and sound. And, sorry again, but as emergencies rate, you having a bath is definitely one.”
Her brows reached for the sky. “You are such an ass.”
“But an honest one. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“No. Not really.” Gray eyes inspected the worn flooring with great care. Far more than it deserved. “Alright, but I’ll deal with my own hygiene issues.”
“I appreciate your willingness to cooperate. In that same spirit, you need to know that I’m sticking to you like glue. Where you go, I go.” She opened her mouth to refute, but he got there first. “Nothing dubious, I promise. I’ll turn my back, won’t even peek. You can trust me.”
“The house is locked up. I don’t you need you watching my every move.”
He shoved his free hand into the space between them, palm up and empty. “Ali, nothing is certain these days. Nothing. Consider it a necessary safety precaution because this can’t work any other way. We need to stick together. I’m sorry, but shyness isn’t a good enough reason for your premature death.”
His girl frowned, stopped, frowned some more. Finally, she delivered one short nod of assent. “Okay.”
“Seriously?”
Her chin moved in the desired direction, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Not even a little.
She was nervous. The panic attack, running away, all of it. If he had stopped to think with his big head as opposed to the little one, he might have moderated his behavior some time back, but no. He had been gung-ho the whole way.
He was an ass.
But, he was the ass committed to keeping her in one piece.
“Good. Great.” He released the death hold he had on her pants, something surprisingly hard to do; his fingers stiffly refused to uncurl. “Why don’t I turn my back and let you get out of those jeans so you can get your knee cleaned up? I’ve even got a couple of extra t-shirts if you need, so you can cover up. I’m not going to see a thing. How does that sound?”
Her shoulders dropped. “Fine.”
Turning his back was harder than letting go of her jeans had been. All sorts of conflict rose up inside him. The girl had no voodoo powers, she wasn’t going to disappear into thin air because his eyes weren’t on her. Christ, he was a case. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face. His hands shook.
The tiny hallway led to a poky lounge with a couple of bedrooms situated off it. Not much chance she would run off on him. Surely.
He strained his ears but heard no sounds of a swift retreat taking place behind him. With the shotgun still in the kitchen, care of their mad dash, she had no weapon at hand. Behind him, the sound of shuffling told him she’d climbed to her feet and ditched the dirty, bloody jeans.
Still. You never knew. So he snuck a peek over his shoulder.
“Hey!”
He spun to face her at the tone of outrage, a hand held out to halt her not even happening escape. Ah, fuck.
The poor girl struggled to pull her pants back up. Going by the pained expression on her damp and pale face, doing so didn’t come remotely close to being fun for her poor sore knee.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Okay, let’s try again.” Daniel shoved a hand through his hair, grabbed a handful and tugged. Holy cow did she look upset. Her eyes were once more skittish, searching for an out. His fault. “Ali, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m excited to see you. No excuse, I know. I also seem to be a tad bit terrified that you’re going to disappear on me. So I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have cheated.”
She showed him her teeth.
“I know. I deserve that, but still…” She hesitated, and he smothered his own snarl of frustration. Buried it down deep in his belly where she couldn’t possibly hear it and use it against him. “Ali, play fair. Give me a chance here.”
“Why should I?” Ali sank back down onto the floor. She set her hands on the linoleum behind her, leant back, sort of Playboy Bunny-style, minus the thrusting out of her breasts. That was just his dirty mind filling in the gaps. Mostly, she appeared tired, cranky, run down. But it didn’t matter. He stared at her, stunned. Poleaxed all over again by the pale, dirty woman who had shoved a gun in his face.
Aah, man. Forty-one was far too fucking old for love at first sight. He might as well throw himself at her feet and be done with it. Except he’d pretty much already done that. It hadn’t gotten him anywhere.
She definitely looked twitchy again, like she would be making for the nearest exit at the first opportunity, sans him.
“Ali, if I break your trust again, I’ll go fetch the shotgun for you myself. What do you say?”
“I say you’re full of it.” It took some time, but eventually she met his gaze. There was a lot going on behind those gray eyes. Too much. He stood in the proverbial cold, coming close to having the door to her heart and mind slammed shut in his face.
“Talk to me,” he said. “Please.”
Her body sagged, and her head hung low. “And say what? I was fine on my own.”
“I know, I know. But for how long? Hmm?”
Nothing.
“All I want,” he dropped to his knees before her. She hustled back on her butt till she hit the wall. Those wide eyes, so full of fear, made his heart hurt. Without her trust he had nothing. “All I want … is to keep you safe.”
“For what?”
“A long time. A very, very long time.”
“Right.” She partly turned her head, putting him in the corner of her vision. “You want a lot more than that.”
Daniel held up a hand, stopping the notion right then and there. “But! But. Listen to me here because this is important. Not without your permission, Ali. That’s the crux of it.”
She watched him like he was a barely chained beast for several long moments, probably weighing his intrinsic value, or who the fuck knew what. He sat silent, out of tricks for now, worn down to his last argument. He held his peace.
“Okay, I promise I won’t run. For now. Not that I’m committing to anything.” The last she tacked on hastily to the end.
“Absolutely.” His heart turned giddy cartwheels inside his chest. Clapping would probably be going too far. “God forbid.”
“Up to and including agreeing to play Adam and Eve with you.”
“Uh-huh. Got it.” He nodded eagerly but kept his face bland. “But you know you just put the visual of you wearing nothing but fig leaves in my head.”
She blinked.
“Sorry.”
Ali carefully pushed herself up the wall, got to her feet. He followed. Not licking his lips.
“Where’s the bathroom?” he enquired.
Gray eyes darted to a door down the hallway, but her hand pointed to another.
“There?” He gave the door indicated a nod, but kept the other in mind for later. It and whatever lay behind it. “Okay, let’s have a bath.” He paused. “I meant that in the singular, by the way.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“How are you doing?”
“Hmm?” Ali rushed the razor over the back of her calf, swallowing past the lump in her throat, feeling stupid and self-conscious.
Gussying herself up because of the idiot, because his jibes had hit home. She had actually let him get to her. Stupid.
And her hands were shaking again. The combined effect of the oversized male lounging against the doorframe with his back turned and the infected banging around outside set her nerves to highly strung.
Both made her jumpy.
Eventually, the infected would lose interest and seek out other prey. Eventually, so too would the oversized male.
“I could give you a hand,” he said, not for the first time.
She didn’t bother to reply.
“You’re killing me.”
“I don’t have my shotgun. If I was killing you I’d probably want that,” she pointed out, in a voice so tight it wavered. Being without her shotgun sucked even more of the courage from her. “Where is it?”
His head turned far enough for her to sight his chin, but he stopped short of looking at her. Lucky for him. She had wrapped a towel around herself just in case his curiosity got the better of him.
Ali rolled her shoulders back, gave her armpit a quick sniff. Soap, not sweat. She smelt fresh. It did feel good being clean after so long. He’d been right. Not that he needed to know. The delicate power balance needed to stay in her favor. Trusting him was a tenuous thing.
The bathing had taken up a lot of her water supplies. But being clean was, apparently, a required luxury.
Jerk.
The infected outside bashed at the back door. She forced her shoulders back down from her ears, made herself ignore the sound. Slow, deep breaths.
“The gun’s on the kitchen counter,” he said, facing mostly forward. “Right where you left it.”
“I saw that, mate. Watch it.”
“Please. Did I turn once while you washed your hair? No. Some of those noises … you should be ashamed of yourself,” he ranted. Because he was crazy. Crazy with an offbeat charm she struggled to stay immune to. Beware the man that made you smile. “But wait, how about while you frolicked with the soap, did I turn then? No. No, I did not. I kept my word no matter how you baited me. That’s because I’m pussy-whipped and proud.”
“Pussy-whipped. Very nice.” Something stung her knee. Wincing, she lifted the razor from her skin. Great. She’d nicked herself due to focusing on the view instead of shaving.
God, but he filled out blue jeans. His ass was paired with the strong line of his back, framed by a set of broad shoulders encased in a t-shirt that fit right. She tried to ignore him, but her girl bits lacked the moral fortitude, apparently.
And lacked priorities.
It had been a very long time between dates.
And he did have a stellar ass.
Her nipples pebbled from more than the damp. It was surreal to feel feminine. To feel human … A drink would have worked, right about then. “You sure have a way with words.”
“I can’t hold back. You’re such a receptive audience. You love me.”
She snorted and hated herself for it.
“And it’s great to have someone to talk to. Even if I can’t face you while we’re talking, which is plain rude. My mother would have been appalled.” Daniel reached up and leant an arm against the top of the doorframe. His fingers tapped a beat against the old hardwood. Mary’s house wasn’t sized for him. He was going to knock himself out on a doorway if he wasn’t careful.
“Give it up,” she said.
“No chance. Not so long as my pathetic state of affairs amuses you.”
It did. He wasn’t even particularly funny. Probably stress.
Then the thing at the back door went thump. Ali jumped, slicing the side of her ankle. Proving the stress theory right. “Shit.”
“What?” Daniel spun and his face screwed up tight in disbelief, brows drawing together. “You were wearing a towel? For how long?”
He snatched a facecloth from the counter and dropped to his knees, dabbing at the small cut oozing blood. “And you call me untrustworthy.”
“You were fine where you were.” Her hands clutched the top of her towel. “Going from being alone to having you around is an adjustment.”
Daniel grunted. “Question. Have you even fired that gun before today? Not that I’m worried you’ll kill me in my sleep or something.”
“No. Today was the first time.” She held still and watched him tending to the cut. In truth, she had survived more by cowardice, hiding in her attic hole, than cunning. “I probably couldn’t hit a house.”
“You did hit a house. You would have hit me just fine.” Daniel smiled up at her.
There were creases at the edges of his baby blues, faint, paler lines against the tan of his skin. He was maybe forty. He wore it well. Lovely, faded, denim-blue eyes that held her rapt for a time. If in days gone by he had smiled at her from across a crowded room, she would have smiled back. That much was true.
“I nearly did shoot you,” she said. “Why would you smile at that?”
“Because you didn’t shoot me. Also because you’re willing to defend yourself. Taken in the right context, both of these things make me happy.” He grabbed a tube of antiseptic cream from the first-aid kit spread out on the bathroom counter and squeezed some onto his fingers. “Might as well deal with your knee while I’m here. Stay still.”
He frowned and clucked his tongue, thick fingers stroking over the jagged cut on her knee. His touch was extraordinarily gentle.
With his face at her crotch level, she started to sweat. The old towel offered little protection. He was a stranger, although an attractive one. She had stopped sleeping with strangers years ago. Had stopped sleeping with anyone almost a year ago. A woman could be content with her own hand. Shower jet. Toys. It had seemed the simplest solution after the great breakup.
The jumble of emotions tumbling through her was all too much for one day.
“Probably just a nail going under the fence. I can do that.” Ali made a grab for the antiseptic, but Daniel stayed ahead of her, tucking it behind his back. “Personal space?” she asked.
“Hush. This is not good.” He continued administering to her, shuffling closer on his knees. She could feel his warm, damp breath on her leg where the towel skirted her skin. It tickled. “When was your last tetanus shot?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. Another thing to worry over. “There might be some antibiotics in the cupboard. I’ll have a look. I think we’re done here.”
“How does it feel?” The corners of his mouth lifted, slowly, and she stared for a moment, bedazzled.
Past time to pull herself together.
Nice face by no means changed the facts. He had barged his way into her safe place. Denied her liberty, yaddah, yaddah.
And oh yeah, she had lost it, big time. Hugely. Right up close and personal.
Shit.
Enough of her normal self remained beside the chunk of space the cowardly rabbit inhabited to wonder if she should be embarrassed or angry or what. He made her feel exposed in a way that had nothing to do with her missing pants.
The thing at the back door started up a dull, constant hammering. Maybe more than one of them, by the sound of it. They were out there, waiting.
What the fuck was she going to do?
“Hey. It’s okay.” His eyes were full of warmth and affection. It was the sort of gaze you got jealous over when another woman was on the receiving end.
How bizarre, he didn’t even know her.
“No need to panic. We’re safe,” he said. “Everything’s locked tight.”
“Yeah.” Her chin bobbed like a cork on the water. She was safe. In her head she knew it. But in the depths of her rabbity heart, she didn’t believe it. “I should get dressed.”
“Which makes it my turn to clean up.” The big man rose to his feet, taking up all available air space in the tiny bathroom. She tried to withdraw, but the back of her heel connected with the bottom of the cabinet door with a thump. That smarted.
Luckily, Daniel didn’t seem to notice her lack of grace. “Another question. Why were you heading for the roof when this place is locked up tighter than a vault?”
“The last ne
ws reports said they didn’t climb well, so it’s safer up there. They said to get onto rooftops, knock out staircases if you could…” Ali shrugged and twisted her lips.
Why had she remained in the dirt and dark when there was a whole house at her disposal? It wasn’t something she cared to review. “I felt safer up there. Can you move, please? You’re in my way.”
“Yeah, but…”
“Move. Please.”
Daniel said nothing and didn’t move, he stood and stared back down at her from on high, his mouth open slightly. The look he gave said she was a hair’s breadth off being loony bin material, but he was too kind to say so. Screw him. Ali bit her cheeks and fought the fear. Being cornered set her off in the worst way and the pushy bastard just kept doing it. He didn’t understand shit. Why she cared what he thought was beyond her. But she did.
“Look, they could still get in. You don’t know what could happen. If enough of them beat against the door, they could break it down. Last time I checked, no one had put out a survival guide for this particular scenario so you can keep your fucking opinions to yourself, okay?” The words poured out in a hot rush. Damn. Not good. Maybe she had lost it. “I want to get dressed now.”
“O-kay.” And if that wasn’t said using a “don’t spook the crazy lady” tone of voice, she would eat her big toe.
Ali shoved her wet hair back from her face, then took a breath and tried to calm down. “Can you move…”
“We can find a safer place out west, you know.” With no warning Daniel whipped his t-shirt off over his head, dropped it to the ground and started in on his belt buckle.
Like it was no big deal.
Holy hell he was fit. And standing way too close. His upper body was perfectly defined. What the hell had he been doing since civilization fell apart?
The oxygen had long since left the room, for her at least. She needed a paper bag to breathe into. Now would be good. “Wh-what?”
“Yeah, yeah. Something with a decent fence we can build up so we can be safe out and about during the day. Be able to see anything coming at us from a distance.” Busy hands made short work of belt and button and zipper. Her face went nuclear. She held up her hands to cover her cheeks while his jeans dropped and his plans grew.
