Читать книгу A Not-So-Perfect Past - Beth Andrews - Страница 10

Chapter Four

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DILLON WALKED into the kitchen and stopped short when he noticed Nina at the small table.

Damn.

He stared down at the top of her bent head. Her shoulders shook and she was making these soft, hiccupping sounds—as if her entire world was crumbling.

He rubbed a hand over his face. Tears. God, he could handle just about anything. Imprisonment. Having the living hell beat out of him by three other prisoners. The days he’d spent in solitary confinement because he’d had to…protect himself.

But not a woman’s tears.

Indecision made him edgy. Should he put his hand on her shoulder? Murmur useless platitudes about how everything would be fine?

At a loss and way out of his element—not to mention his comfort zone—he scowled. “You going to swallow those tears back?” Startled, Nina lifted her head, her cheeks wet, her lips parted. “I never would’ve taken you for one of those women,” he added gruffly.

She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “One of those women?” she asked, her tone surprisingly frigid for someone who’d just been bawling her eyes out. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“One of those women who cries when things don’t go their way, instead of standing up for themselves. Who whine and complain but never do anything to change their circumstances.”

Women like his mother.

“If I want to cry because my business, my finances and any chance I have at giving my children a decent life are all in danger, then I’ll damn well cry,” she told him as she stood. With her hands on the table, she leaned forward. “And if you can’t suck it up and take a few tears, then leave.”

Huh. Maybe Nina wasn’t like his mother after all. Leigh never stood up to any of the many guys who used her and she sure as hell didn’t stand up to Glenn or try to leave him. No matter how badly he hurt her or her kids.

“That Joe guy say something to you to set you off?” he asked.

“Of course not. He just wanted to let me know that Kyle’s not really a bad kid.” The disbelief in her tone made it all too clear how she felt about that. “The court-appointed psychologist thinks Kyle was testing his foster parents. Seeing if he could push them away before he got too close to them.”

Smart kid.

“You think that’s what happened?” he asked.

She straightened, her hands fisted at her sides. “You know what? I don’t give a rip about what Kyle was doing when he crashed that SUV. My life is in the toilet, but I’m the one feeling guilty. Like I should be more understanding. More forgiving.” Her voice broke and she turned her back to him.

Dillon ordered his feet to move. But knew he couldn’t walk away. “When do you want me to start?”

She faced him again. Wiped the back of her hand under her pink-tipped nose. “Start what?”

“The job. Tomorrow soon enough?”

“I thought you weren’t interested in saving me.” Her venomous tone made him want to smile. “What changed your mind?”

“A couple of things.” He shrugged. “I figured I might as well make some money before I move. And my working here will piss off all the people who wanted me out in the first place.” He paused. “All the people you listen to.”

Her pretty mouth popped open. “So this is revenge?”

He couldn’t tell if the idea appalled her. Or thrilled her. “Does it matter?”

“I…” She shook her head and rubbed her temples. “You know, at this point, I’m not even sure.”

He grinned. He couldn’t help it. She was just too damn cute with her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Thank God he didn’t find cute appealing.

“You might want to decide,” he said. “The offer’s not going to be on the table forever. But before you make up your mind, you should know I do have one condition.”

“Virgin sacrifices every morning?” she mumbled.

He froze, unsure if he heard her right. Then he allowed his gaze to roam over her lush curves.

Color flooded her cheeks. “What’s the condition?”

“I want Kyle to work with me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I want him to work with me so he can show he’s taking responsibility for what happened and wants to make amends.”

“No,” she said, stepping around the table in front of him. “No way.”

A Not-So-Perfect Past

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