Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,154

few horrible weeks—and think about what a damned fool she’d been.

Dean had used her. He’d feigned an interest in her so he could build his money-laundering case against Marty. He’d played her like an instrument, obviously seeing the quiet, sweet-faced bookkeeper as an easy mark.

She hated the son of a bitch with a passion she’d never had toward anyone in her life.

That rage carried her down the block as she strode away from the dealership, heading toward her nearby apartment. Usually when she made the walk home, she kept her purse clutched tightly to her side, and constantly scanned for any possible danger. This wasn’t a bad part of town—but as a young woman walking alone, she didn’t take chances. Tonight, however, she practically dared anyone to mess with her. She felt capable of doing real violence.

“Bridget, wait, please!” a voice called.

Though she kept walking, she peered over her shoulder to see who’d called her. She almost tripped over her own feet when she realized it was Dean. “Stay away from me,” she snapped, picking up her pace.

He picked up his, too, chasing her down until he reached her. “Would you stop? I’ve been calling you for two blocks.”

“Not real quick on the uptake, are you?” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You have to let me explain.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she said, though she did finally stop and face him. “And you don’t have to explain, I got it, okay? You were working undercover. I was the easy mark. Of course you’d come after me by any means at your disposal.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Like hell.”

“Just...calm down and let me explain. I did not mean to hurt you, and I definitely never meant to get personally involved with you.”

“You mean that wasn’t in the manual?”

“No, it wasn’t. But I was worried, I felt sure early on that you were caught in something you didn’t know about.” He put a hand on her arm. “I was worried about you.”

She shrugged his hand of. “Sure you were. I’m sure your concern was the reason you asked me out. And your fears that I was being used by my boss to help hide money was the only reason you kissed the lips off my face yesterday.”

He closed his eyes, breathed deeply—as if for control—and tried again. “I lost my detachment where you were concerned.”

Those were the first words he’d said that actually made her pause. Because he’d whispered them hoarsely, as if against his will. Like he didn’t want to admit to the weakness.

And she believed him.

Not that it made a damn bit of difference. “Well, that’s too bad for you then,” she said, lifting her chin, amazed that her voice didn’t even quiver. “Because I never want to see you again.” She began walking again.

“Bridget, I know you’re upset now. But I want to make it up to you. Soon, when you’ve...”

“When I’ve what?” she asked, swinging around again. “When I’ve calmed down? Well, keep dreaming, buddy. Because it’s not going to happen. Ever.”

Dean met her stare, but didn’t try to stop her this time when she turned again to start walking. He did, however, have one more thing to say, low, as if making a vow.

“I’m not giving up.”

“Well, too bad for you,” she snapped back, feeling both proud of herself for being so strong...and sad at having lost something she suspected could have been very special.

“Bridget....”

This time, she didn’t turn around. And she didn’t have to wonder what Izzie would do.

Bridget knew what she wanted to do.

So without a pause, she lifted her hand, flipped him the bird over her shoulder and kept on walking.

12

IZZIE DIDN’T SEE or hear from Nick for six long days. The longest of her life.

Since she’d walked out of Harry’s office Sunday night, Nick had apparently taken her orders to leave her alone seriously, because that’s exactly what he’d done. He hadn’t tried calling, hadn’t popped in to the bakery, hadn’t even nonchalantly walked by the shop and pretended not to look in at her.

That’s what she’d done, at Santori’s, but she hadn’t seen the man at all.

“Why didn’t you fight for me?” she whispered as she drove to the other side of town Saturday evening on her way to work. “Why did you listen to me and leave me alone?”

Why did you tell him to?

Good question. And Izzie was already forgetting the answer, though it had seemed so important Sunday.

Yes, she was still upset that he’d suddenly gone from an