Since she wasn’t trying to dodge the cops anymore, Roxy headed to her apartment. Thanks to Rafe. She tried to muster the appropriate amount of snark as she thought that, but she was having trouble. She pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine.
Rafe stood in the next row of cars, leaning against his pickup truck.
She didn’t want to see him. She was still mad, but she didn’t feel the fury burning deep inside like she had before. That needed to be fixed. If she didn’t taste that fury, she’d never give him the tongue-lashing he deserved—and not the good kind.
She could slam her door and restart the engine. Run away. But that wasn’t really her style—now that he’d seen her. If he hadn’t seen her, she’d be a curled puff of air like in the cartoons.
She could pretend she didn’t see him and head to her apartment—that was only slightly cowardly. Or she could face him, head on. Be courageous.
Roxy grabbed her purse, slammed the car door after she exited and hoofed it to her apartment. Cowardly? Yes. But the lion from The Wizard of Oz had nothing on her, and she was okay with it.
She made her way to the stairs leading to her second-floor unit. But there was a muumuu standing in her way, taking up the width of the stairs. There was no way around without knocking the muumuu to the ground. Problem was that she liked the woman attached to the muumuu.
Ms. Potter stood there with her hands on her hips. She wore one heck of a frown. Ms. Potter, not the muumuu.
“It’s so nice to see you, Ms. Potter.” Roxy injected her voice with an excitement she wasn’t feeling.
“You said you’d drop off the check. You promised. Even the nutter in 1B paid on time.”
“I’m sorry I’m late, but I get paid tomorrow.” Which was true. She wouldn’t get paid again for a while after that, but that was a problem for next month. “I’ll have the money tomorrow.”
“You’re not having gambling problems again, are you dear?”
“I’m not gambling.” Roxy’s “gambling problem” was back when she was making minimum wage. She went with her dad to the bingo hall and lost the money for rent. It happened once—okay maybe twice—but she didn’t sling the daubers anymore.
“Is there a problem?” a male voice asked.
Why? Why was he here to see this? What had she done in a previous life to deserve this? Rafe approached Ms. Potter, all professional in his black suit pants and white collared shirt unbuttoned down to the bottom of his throat. His sleeves were pulled up, showing muscled forearms. And his hands? Don’t get her started on his hands. It made her hot.
Again, why her?
“Well, well, who might you be?” The old woman turned to Roxy. “You didn’t say you had a bloke.”
“I don’t have a bloke.” She had a one-night stand that ended in a backstabbing. “There’s no problem. I’ll get you this month’s rent by tomorrow.”
She gave Ms. Potter a look to move along. Nothing to see here. But either Ms. Potter was ignoring Roxy’s rounded eyes, or she couldn’t see them through the lust she obviously had for Rafe.
In fact, the old lady beamed at him and fluffed her hair like she was on the pageant circuit. “What’s your name?”
“Rafe, ma’am.” He held out his hand and shook. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” She batted her eyelashes.
Roxy had never seen Ms. Potter bat anything. Well, except for the raccoon that tried to take up residence in the hallway last year. Then the old woman swung a bat like she was in a cricket match. But this? This was weird.
“I should get to my apartment. I have work to do.” Roxy nodded and inched by Ms. Potter. Her feet slapped the steps as she escaped.
How she was actually going to escape anything, she had no idea. Eventually, Rafe would get past Ms. Potter and then he’d be knocking on Roxy’s door.
Maybe she could move? Totally not an overreaction. Right?
She unlocked her front door and slid inside the apartment, closing the door behind her. Halfway to closed the door thumped something, or someone, and wouldn’t budge.
She looked down at a black boot between the door and the frame. She pushed, but nothing. He and his big foot weren’t budging. Well, neither am I, pal. She stuck her face in the gap. “Can I help you?”
He rolled his eyes. Rolled his eyes! “I just want to talk.”
“Maybe start by not rolling your eyes at me. That’s not a good way to get me to want to talk to you.” She pushed on the door and internally danced a jig when he flinched. Payback was awesome.
“I’m rolling my eyes because you’re flattening the hell out of my foot and your face is in the door. All I have to do is move my foot and you’ll have black and blue lines along the side of your face.”
He was totally exaggerating. But she pulled her face back so she wouldn’t get her cheeks smashed. Just in case. “Thank you for telling me that. I’ve moved my face, so you can remove your foot.”
Another push on the door and he winced. She was enjoying this way too much and not at all, at the same time. He was a walking, talking representation of her stupidity. And he just stood on her doorstep—mocking her—telling her how dumb she was to trust him. She’d liked him, that was why she’d spent the night with him. She’d thought he’d liked her.
That was where the stupidity always seemed to find her. She thought guys were into her. She thought they liked her. Stupid.
“I can’t move my foot, not until you let me in.”
“Why?”
“We need to talk.” He was almost pleading.
“We really don’t.” Her arms were getting tired. She turned and leaned her shoulder on the metal door. Eventually he had to get tired. Right? “There’s nothing to say.”
“There is.” His voice was bourbon and velvet. Warm and smooth. Hearing the dejected tone as he bumped his forehead on the door made her even more tired. Talking for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt anything. Just her psyche.
That was already suffering anyway.
She pulled away from the door, letting it fall open. Rafe passed Roxy and closed the door, taking all the oxygen from the planet. He seemed to take up all the space and all the air.
They stood there—Roxy trying to breathe and Rafe making it look oh so easy.
Rafe studied the room, probably seeing the dust bunnies foraging on the furniture. Well, the parts of the furniture not covered by clothes. Bad news? Her clothes were all over the place. Good news? It was mostly dresses. No undergarments.
“Nice place.” The first time he stopped by and her apartment was impersonating Las Vegas Boulevard on New Year’s Day. His words didn’t lift the stress from the room.
“How did you find my address?”
He couldn’t seem to meet her eyes, embarrassed, maybe. “I have my ways.”
“Stalk much?”
Rafe ran a hand up his neck and a short laugh burst out. “Sorry.”
“For what?” The list was getting longer.
“For stalking you.”
Not that she really cared if he stalked her or not. “You’re forgiven. Is that all?” She wasn’t in the mood to be found by him right now, so she’d forgive him anything if that meant he’d go away.
“I’m also sorry for what happened earlier.”
Maybe she wouldn’t forgive him anything. “Okay.”
“I didn’t want the cops to hunt you down. When you go to them, things are still cordial. MacAuley is the lead on the case and they were working on getting a warrant. If that would have happened, that interview would have gone differently. Did they give you a hard time?”
“No, they didn’t. Well, Detective Dick might have been an ass, but MacAuley was fine.”
“Which I knew he would. I wouldn’t have let you go if I thought he’d hurt you.”
“They weren’t going to hurt me, but they could’ve arrested me.” She’d still be rotting in a cell, wondering how the hell it happened. Knowing deep down it was her own fault for trusting Rafe. Anger gutted her stomach. Or maybe it was sadness that he could just hand her over like luggage.
Rafe shook his head. “MacAuley said they didn’t have the evidence to arrest you, but that every minute they didn’t talk to you was giving Detective Dick more ammunition.” He laughed. “I like that name, by the way.”
Roxy couldn’t believe this guy. It wasn’t like cops didn’t lie— everyone did. Just last week, she’d told her mother the stew she’d made was edible. Stringy chicken that a dog wouldn’t eat. Lies happen. “And you believed him?”
“Yes, I did. I still do. If he was lying, you’d still be in custody. I was trying to protect you.” Rafe stood inches from her.
How he’d gotten that close, she had no idea. But she didn’t want him near her. “You lied to me to protect me?” What a crock.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t protect me. It was my choice to turn myself in or not. My. Decision.” Her blood pressure spiked a knot into the back of her neck. Her fists clenched, and she fought to keep them glued to her side and not swing them at his protective face. “You took that away.”
Rafe leaned his head back and sighed. “You’re right. I was wrong to take you to the station without making sure you were on board first. That was an asshole thing to do.”
“It was.” It wasn’t much fun being mad when he was agreeing. Her fists unclenched as he paced, shaking his head.
He finished back where he’d been, closing that gap but still not touching her. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
“You lied.” She didn’t say it, but she didn’t know he could ever make this up to her. “You took away my choice.”
The look on his face told her that the words hit exactly where she was aiming. You didn’t take away a woman’s choice. You didn’t take away anyone’s choice.
“I didn’t even think about it that way. But that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.” His breath lingered along her cheek as he leaned forward. Still not touching her.
“How do I know you won’t do that again?”
“I might be an idiot, but I can learn. I can see what I did was shitty.” His eyes found hers with a look that tore out her heart. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.” The regret in that one look was enough for her to want to reach out. Tell him it would be okay.
But it wouldn’t be okay. Not until she knew. “Don’t ever do it again.” She couldn’t move forward without trust. And right now, that trust was fractured.
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, Rafe.” She felt the tears sliding down her cheek. She didn’t care if he saw them. He needed to know. He couldn’t do this again.
She couldn’t handle being lied to. Her father had lied to her enough in her lifetime. She was stuck with her dad. She wouldn’t purposely get into a relationship with someone like that. No thanks. “No lying,” she told him. “No not telling me something for my own protection. Don’t ever take away my choice again.”
“I won’t.” He lifted his hand and slid his thumb under her eye, wiping away the tear. “I swear.”
She closed her eyes and tried to find the anger or the hurt. But she was empty. Maybe it was the tears, or maybe it was that Rafe knew now what he did wrong and he promised to never do it again.
He leaned in. “May I kiss you?”
She looked into his eyes, wondering why he was asking. He had to know she wanted him.
“You have to say yes or no, Roxanna. This is your decision.”
Did she want him to kiss her? She was still mad—a little. She was still hurt—a moderate amount. She still liked him—a lot. She wanted to see where this could go. “Yes.”
His lips met hers and her knees nearly mutinied. The kiss was raw and intense. That magical tongue found its way to her mouth. His hands slid up and down her back, bringing her closer and closer.
His body was everywhere and not nearly as close as she wanted him to be. A loud gurgle stopped Rafe mid stroke. He pulled back and lifted her chin with his hand. “Was that your stomach?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t we grab some dinner?”
“Really?” She was warm and willing, and he wanted dinner?
“Really.” He pulled away, slipping his phone from his pocket and clicking on the screen. “We have all night to make up. Let’s make sure you have the energy to enjoy it.”
He was right. After he plied her with dinner and dessert, she had more than enough energy to make up properly.