“I’ll do the dishes,” she offered as he started tidying up.
“Stay.” He pointed at her.
She refrained from barking like a dog. Just.
“Starting to think you have some control issues.”
The look he sent her clearly said, well duh.
“Spike?”
“Hmm?”
“How is this going to help? Me staying here? Are we just outwaiting that Devil’s Sinners jerk, Corey? How long will that take? I have things to do. I can’t just stay here and twiddle my thumbs all day.”
He had made quick work of tidying the kitchen and now leaned back against the counter, facing her, his arms crossed over his thick chest. His T-shirt was tight around his biceps and she felt her heartbeat pick up.
“What things do you have to do?” he asked.
“Stuff.”
“Not going to tell me exactly why you came here?”
“I told you, I’m looking for someone.” It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the full truth, either.
He simply stared at her. She had to fight hard not to fidget. The man should have been an interrogator. He had the whole intimidating act down pat.
“This isn’t a long-term solution.”
“It’s not.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the island in front of him. “Best solution would be you going home. Steele doesn’t want that until he knows who the rat is, but that’s his issue. You wanna go, I’ll get you home safe.”
“I don’t. Not yet. I can’t.”
“Then you stay here until I’m sure you’re safe.”
“Why? Why do you care?”
He stared at her for a long moment then turned away. “Gonna hit the gym then do some work. If you go outside, stay on the patio. Watch TV, there’s books and magazines. Help yourself.”
Her shoulders slumped as he walked off. He wasn’t going to tell her.
Then he stopped in the doorway, his shoulders tensing before he turned back. “Couldn’t save my wife.”
Oh, so that was it. He was helping her because of his wife.
“Am I like her?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
Ouch. For some reason that hurt. A lot.
He walked out.
“Wait!”
He turned again; his face shut down. She knew she wouldn’t get anything else personal out of him.
“Can I use your Wi-Fi? I have my laptop.”