A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,20
itself.
But she’d show him what he could do with his pity.
She inhaled a shaky breath. She wouldn’t have guessed she was capable of enduring this much pain, but here she was, still alive.
What else was she capable of? She intended to find out, and Con would learn too—the hard way.
Chapter 6
Lizzie squinted in the sun, keeping her distance from the edge of the canyon. “So, what is that thing on your butt?” She stared at the tattoo as it disappeared into a pair of neatly pressed pants. He seemed to have an inexhaustible supply. Probably had a deal with the Devil that banished wrinkles from his wardrobe.
“A flaming dagger.” He pulled a gleaming white shirt from his bag and shook it out.
“A gang tattoo?”
“Kind of. Protective coloration.”
“On your butt?”
“It’s a long story. Better there than on my face, right?”
“Was that before or after you went to reform school?” She dragged out the last two words. Con didn’t look at all ruffled. He whipped out a comb and slicked back his hair.
“During.”
“Must have been a nice place.”
“Very educational, let’s put it that way.”
“Is that where you learned how to lie, cheat and steal?”
Now he looked hurt. He tucked the comb back in his bag. “I didn’t do any of those things.”
“You told me that tattoo was a family crest. That’s not a lie?”
“A gang is a kind of family.” The half-smile that crept across his face let her know he didn’t think he was fooling anyone.
“Don’t snow me with semantics, please. I may be naïve, but I’m not stupid. How did you end up in reform school anyway?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Everything’s a long story with you. I’d like to actually hear one of them.”
“Maybe another time.”
He zipped up his bag. Slipped his bare feet into dusty dress shoes. Apparently today the illusion only extended to his ankles. “You hungry?”
“No. Do you have any plans beyond feeding me back to my fighting weight?” Her hostile tone began to grate even on her nerves. “Damn, being a bitch is exhausting. If I lighten up a little, don’t take it personally.”
Con’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll try not to. Come sit down, get out of the sun for a while.”
He’d put the top up on the car and the passenger seat beckoned. Her fake tan didn’t give much protection from the blistering Arizona sun. Underneath it she was already freckling. “Alright.”
Con climbed into the driver side and they sat there, side by side, inches from each other. She could smell his sweat and the scent of sex. A crisp white shirt couldn’t hide everything. Strong, brown hands rested on his knees.
She shifted her attention to the big brown desert out there. “So, tell me, Con. Have you ever been really happy?”
“Sure. I can honestly say I’ve never been happier than when I was with you.”
She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore an odd flutter in her chest. “I mean when you weren’t living a charade.” She turned to stare at him. “Or have you been acting some kind of role since the day you were born?”
His chin kicked up, like she’d clocked him on it. Not such a bad idea. Then again, if anything, the little bump she’d added to his nose made his profile more distinguished.
“I guess you could say I have been pretending things were different for most of my life. Not because I wanted to…” His voice trailed off and he turned those soulful brown eyes on her.
“Maybe I should give that philosophy a try. Mmm, who do I wish to be? Let me see…” She drummed a finger on the dashboard. Turned her eyes on him with an intense stare. “I’d like to be me. The way I was before I met you, before my nearest and dearest bled me dry and left my bones out to bleach in the sun.” Her throat seized up as she spit out the words.
“Were you really happy?”
“Of course not! But no one is really happy. We figure out a treadmill to run on, and we keep running. I had a pretty good situation back then. It sure beat being a penniless dupe who’s lost all faith in herself and others!”
She stared at him, her face heating.
“You were happy with me.” He said it so quietly that she thought she might have imagined it. “Maybe living in a world of illusion isn’t such a bad thing?”
His soft voice and steady brown-eyed gaze threatened her barricades. She shored them up by wondering what else he might