“Where’d you get the money to do that? You spent all your savings?”
It felt that way. Untouchable was just as bad as spent, in her case. “It’s mostly in the bank still. I couldn’t get much ofit from the ATM, and I couldn’t risk withdrawing it at all once I left Milwaukee. But after Rick passed out that night, Itook his money. Well, my money, really. After talking to Wayne when he laid out what he expected of me, I realized he paidRick lots more than I ever saw for my paintings. So I searched his apartment and found a stack of cash in a cereal box.” Sierrabit her lip, still ashamed of her middle-of-the-night skulduggery.
Flynn used the side of his broad thumb to tease her lip back out. “For Christ’s sake, the man was an attempted murderer whofleeced you for the work you did. Don’t you dare feel bad about that for a second. You were in survival mode.” He switchedto brushing the back of his knuckle along the outline of both lips. “I’m so damn glad that you got out of there.”
“Bandon’s the end of the road for me. I have to stop running eventually. I like it here. And I can’t keep being the scared,cowardly girl, always looking over her shoulder waiting for the bad man to grab her.”
“You’re not a coward. You’re beyond strong. Brave. People who aren’t running for their lives have trouble moving two townsover. Someone should turn you into a movie of the week.”
“Oh, no. I truly just want peace and quiet. After I make things right with Mrs. Newberry.”
“She’s alive?”
“Yes, thank goodness. Lots of broken bones and some internal damage, but from the news reports I could find online, she’sout of rehab and back home.” Sierra scooted off his lap to go and turn the easel toward Flynn. To show him her version ofthe yellow and purple orchids that Miriam Newberry placed with in flower shows all across the country. She’d scoured the webcompulsively for info on the woman. “This painting? I’ve started and restarted it for months. It’s a gift for her. It isn’tenough of an apology, but it’s all I can do right now. I just need it to be perfect before I figure out how to get it to her.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything.”
The tender reassurance in Flynn’s voice—for once—did not help at all. “That’s just it. I didn’t do anything. Don’t you see? I didn’t stop Rick. I didn’t call an ambulance. I might not have technically done anything wrong,but I sure didn’t do anything right.”
Flynn just stared at her for a minute, his face hardened into an unreadable mask. The silence lasted so long that Sierra noticedher fast, almost pants of breath. She noticed the early screech of an owl.
Most of all, she noticed that now that she’d admitted the very worst, most shameful part of her story, Flynn had stopped reassuringher. Stopped praising her. Stopped . . . everything.
Abruptly, he got up. Crossed to her in two long steps and gripped her biceps tightly.
“Don’t. You hear me, Sierra? Just don’t. Don’t value your very survival as any less important than someone else’s. What happenedwas fucking awful. To her—and to you. This Rick dipshit may have ruined your old life, but don’t let him taint your new one.”
Relief turned her knees to jelly. Good thing this amazing, understanding man had a hold of her. “Okay.”
“Focus on the good. Here and now. What do you like about Bandon?”
As a kid from the Midwest, it was easy to pop out the first answer. “The ocean. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being in aweof it. I like working with the kids on the float. I like how our regulars at the Gorse tell me about their lives. I like thefriends I’m making.”
“Anything else?”
The intensity of his gaze pulled the words out of her. Ones Sierra hadn’t known she was ready to say out loud.
“I like you, Flynn. I didn’t want to drag you into my messed-up life. But you’re irresistible. You’re incredible. You make me feel moremyself than I ever have before. You’re the best thing about Bandon.”
Then Sierra held her breath. Hadn’t she dumped enough on him already for one night? Why, why had she gone and dumped her feelings onto him, too?
What would he think?
Would the truth of her heart be more upsetting to him than the truth of her accidental criminal past? And if it was, if heshied away from what she felt, it would prove Sierra to be, officially, the worst judge of boyfriends ever.
Chapter Thirteen
Flynn didn’t talk about his feelings. Losing both your parents before you could shave made a guy shut down. Working for themob and having to hide it from everyone at college? Running a real company, interacting with the real world while hiding histrue ties to the seedy underbelly of Chicago? Those things gave him plenty of reasons to keep his lips zipped.
It also added up to years of casually dating. Of never letting anyone get too close.
Until Sierra.
He’d tried not to let her get to him. But her big eyes and even bigger heart were exactly what she’d just said—impossible to resist. Sierramade him want to tell her how she made him feel.
She made him want to tell her everything.
Which was dangerous as fuck.
But . . . he could still show her how he felt. Show her, no, lavish her with feelings. Turn Sierra into a quivering, satisfied mass of feeling. Then she’dknow what was in his head and his heart without him using any words at all.
It was a solid plan.
Flynn pulled her in to him, latching on to her mouth like it was the last kiss two people on earth would ever share. Thiskiss would let Sierra know his intent for the next, oh, six to eight hours.
Pleasuring her.
Making her scream his name.
Making her beg him to keep
