even if that was her instinctual, self-protective reaction. Her reaction to anything that could possibly hurt her.
She could see that about herself. She could see herself as others likely did and what she saw made her cringe. It was a miracle she had any friends left because God knew she hadn’t been a very good friend herself. But she could change that. Starting now. She could bend without breaking. It was time to start returning the unconditional love and support her friends had offered her since Carson died.
She’d been so wrapped up in her own grief and misery that she’d become a selfish bitch. She didn’t like herself very much, and if she didn’t like herself, how could she expect others to like her? Why the hell did Jensen seem to like her? She certainly hadn’t been remotely receptive to any of his overtures. She’d returned every kindness he’d offered her with blatant rudeness. And yet he’d stayed with her last night, offering unconditional, unquestioning support.
Why?
Was he a masochist?
He sat down at the bar and she pushed a cup of coffee in his direction. For a moment there was an awkward silence between them but then she gathered her courage and took the bull by the horns.
“Thank you for last night,” she said in a low voice. “It meant . . . a lot. You didn’t have to do it, but I’m grateful you did. That you . . . stayed. Thank you.”
His eyes were warm as he stared at her, his gaze stroking her face as surely as if he’d reached out and touched her with his hand. She almost wished he would. Touch her. Her skin came alive at the mere thought and her thoughts drifted to the night before. Of how wonderful it had felt to be in his arms, surrounded by his strength and the unspoken promise that nothing would hurt her while he was with her.
“You’re welcome, Kylie. I’m glad I was here so you didn’t have to suffer alone as you do many other nights, I’m sure.”
She flushed, not even bothering to deny it. He’d know she was lying.
“You going to have a cup?” he asked, his gaze taking in the fact she hadn’t poured herself any coffee.
She shook her head. “No. I’m jittery enough. Caffeine would only make it worse.”
“Do I make you that nervous?” he asked mildly. “Surely after last night you realize I’m not a monster.”
She felt the betraying heat creep up her neck again. “No, I don’t think that at all,” she said softly. “This is just . . . uncomfortable for me. You have to understand. I don’t allow others to see me as you saw me last night. It bothers me. I feel . . . vulnerable, and I hate that feeling.”
He set his mug down and reached across the bar to take her hand. “I don’t want to make you feel that way, baby. I want you to feel just the opposite. You can be yourself with me. I understand you. Far better than you realize. We all have our demons to battle. You aren’t alone.”
She cocked her head, curious at the odd note in his voice. “And what are your demons, Jensen?”
His face tightened and his eyes became shuttered. She instantly regretted the innocent question, but then he’d seen her at her worst. Wasn’t she entitled to know something about him? Something that made him vulnerable?
He checked his watch, effectively dodging her question. “I need to get going if I’m going to get back in time for us to make our meeting. Will half an hour be enough time for you to get ready?”
She nodded.
He got up and to her surprise walked around to where she stood and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her. Softly. Just a brush of his lips against hers, but she felt the warmth all the way to her toes. Her entire body tingled. Her breasts became heavy and aching, her nipples straining outward. She was grateful that the robe disguised her reaction to such a simple kiss.
“I’ll be back soon,” he murmured.
And then he turned and strode out of her kitchen, the front door opening and closing as he walked out.
She stood there a long
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