“I know. But that’s not why you’re here. I don’t need you to light candles, check my flashlight batteries, or make sure I’m safe in a storm. I pay people to do that.”
“I don’t need to be here.” It was obvious this was some kind of game. An angle. I’d said I was sorry. It wasn’t going to be enough. Tonight, wasn’t the night to reach her. It was going to take more time, and it wasn’t going to happen when she looked like she could eat me alive. “I hope you make it through the storm, okay. I’ll let myself out.”
“No,” she snapped. “Not yet.”
My hand had barely touched the doorknob when a peel of thunder rocked the entire house and the lights faded. The flames I had lit danced around the room. There were enough to make the entire room glow.
I inhaled. “What’s this about?”
“Trust,” she whispered.
I slowly turned around. “Trust? All right. I get it. You don’t trust me. You found out about the PAC the wrong way. It was a betrayal. I understand. I betrayed you. You can’t trust. Don’t you think I know that?”
She shook her head. “No. I want to know if you trust me.”
She slinked toward me. I swallowed, wondering if when the power grid went down, another switch had been flipped—something inside her was different than when I first walked in the room. Her eyes were dazzling. Seductive.
I reached behind my back and turned the lock on the door.
“I guess that depends. I trust you not to cheat at poker.” I winked as I stepped toward her.
“When have we ever played poker together?” she asked.
My hand landed on her hip. My fingers instinctively curled into her waist. Our eyes met and I wondered if she had let go of the anger or if it was still there beneath the surface.
“I don’t think we ever did,” I answered.
Her chin tilted upward. “What if I told you I knew what you were doing?”
I shrugged. “I’d be fine with that.” I brushed the hair off her shoulder. “You know the big secret.”
“I’m not sure I do.” She bit her lower lip and I fucking lost it.