you to your current job?”
Oh, God. He was trying to get rid of her. Wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to cause a scene when he found her replacement. “Don’t worry, I’m not desperate for a job. I already have one, remember?”
“So you wouldn’t be interested in staying at Angel’s on a more permanent basis?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” She thought she’d just made it clear that she wasn’t angling for the position.
“Aren’t you?”
Bewildered, she shook her head.
The subtle brush of something soft across the nape of her neck made her swallow. The warmth in her stomach increased. He was trailing the tip of her ponytail across her skin, and her gaze somehow landed on his mouth before she yanked it back up to his eyes. Was he trying to drive her crazy?
“Would you stay at Angel’s, if I asked you to?”
Her thoughts moved slowly, as if slogging their way through thick molasses. “You want me to stay?”
“I thought I’d made that obvious at the beginning of the conversation.”
“No—I thought. I thought you were trying to tell me not to get too comfortable.” She licked her lips. “Are you offering me the position?”
His mouth curved in that slow, devastating smile that wreaked havoc on her senses. “That depends. Would you say yes?”
She wanted to, heaven knew. But something about the way he said it—along with that damned sweep of hair across her neck—made alarm bells go off in her head.
“Did Jason put you up to this?”
“Jason? No, of course not.” His smile faded.
She gulped. She could only think of one other possibility. “Are you doing it because you think it’s expected?”
The sudden darkening of his eyes told her she’d made a serious gaffe. The prickly sensation on her nape halted. He’d just talked about his mother giving him a set of dishes because it was the expected thing to do. Equating his actions with hers was not a good thing.
“Is that what you think of me, Chloe?”
“No, of course not. I didn’t mean— I know you’re actually...”
“Actually what?”
“A nice person.” Something else she’d said about his mother’s gift. Wow, she was really hitting them out of the park this evening.
He laughed, the hand in her hair tightening, forcing her to look at him. “I’m really not, Chloe. Just ask your brother. I think he might know me better than I know myself.”
The pounding in her chest couldn’t be her heart, could it? Because she could barely believe he was offering her the perfect way to leave her old life behind. And although she wanted to grab it before he changed his mind, she had to be sure he really wanted her to stay.
“Why do you want me here?” She touched his hand. “And please don’t tell me it’s because you feel sorry for me. I—I couldn’t bear it.”
Swish. Her hair brushed the side of her neck this time, sliding under her chin, along her jaw. Her breath caught in her throat.
“You’re good at your job. The patients and the staff all like you. And I know I can work with you.” Another tug on her hair. “So please don’t compare me with my mother.”
“Sorry about that.” She smiled. “Jason told me what you had to deal with.”
His head tilted. “And what was that?”
Uh-oh. “He didn’t gossip about you, Brad. He just came home so angry one day I thought he was going to explode.”
“Angry at me?”
“No. At your parents.” She paused. “I pulled him into the backyard and pestered him until he finally let it slip.”
“Let what slip?”
“That your parents had padlocks on...” She swallowed. “That they used to lock you out of the house sometimes.” The words sounded horrific when said out loud, and Chloe immediately wished she could call them back.
She wasn’t about to admit what else she knew. That a teenage Brad—as tough and cynical as the best of them—had fought back tears as he’d told Jason what he’d endured. His parents hadn’t merely locked him out of the house—that had been during his later years. But when he’d been younger, his mother had routinely locked him in a closet in his bedroom whenever he’d done something she hadn’t liked. Jason had seen one of the locks and asked about them.
Brad hadn’t understood why his parents hadn’t loved him the way Chloe and Jason’s parents loved their kids. The way they loved him.
His motorcycle accident had happened a mere week after his confession. Chloe was pretty sure it hadn’t been a coincidence. She could remember her terror when she’d seen the damage to his face, his shredded T-shirt...bleeding arm.
Brad had gone very still at her words. Well, most of him, anyway. One small muscle in his cheek was tensing and releasing in a slow, methodical movement that held her captive. Made her mouth go dry.
For a second she thought he was going to withdraw his offer and get up and leave, but he didn’t. He sat there, without saying a word, until that muscle finally went still. “I don’t want to talk about my parents.”
“Okay.” She pulled in a breath, relief going through her. She was just as desperate to change the subject as he was. “What do you want to talk about?”
Her ponytail, which had gone slack over the last couple of minutes, went taut again with a couple of quick bumps, and she realized he’d wrapped it around his hand. He used it to tip her head back an inch or two.
“I don’t want to talk at all.”
The pupils in his eyes grew, turning black. With anger?
Maybe. But Brad wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that without a doubt. “What do you want to do, then?”
“Something your brother warned me not to.”
Panic started to skitter up her spine, coming face to face with a warm, lethargic wave of need that was traveling down it. The two battled for control of her central nervous system while her vocal cords acted of their own accord. “And what is that?”
“This.” Brad’s pupils swam before her eyes, until they came so close she could no longer see them. Then his mouth covered hers in a searing kiss.
SHE EXPECTED TO feel fear. There was none.
A man was using her hair to hold her prisoner—the way Travis used to do.
