Page 4 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

It sends something warm and strange fluttering through my chest.

Dangerous.

Very dangerous.

I grab the edge of the car door, pull it wider.

His gaze moves over the garage slowly before returning to me. “You checked your backseat before unlocking your car.”

I freeze.

“And you scan the shadows like you’re expecting a monster to emerge from them.”

My throat tightens. Because that’s exactly what I expect.

“Do you have problems I should know about?”

The air leaves my lungs in a sharp little rush. “No.”

Those piercing green eyes fix on mine. “You sure?”

“Yup,” I clip.

“Your ex?” he says, not letting it go.

“I haven’t seen my ex in years.” That’s the truth. I just…worry I will. I worry with every freaking fiber of my being.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not still afraid of him.”

Something strange cracks open inside my chest. “Thorn,” I whisper.

His face changes. Gentles.

Shit. I need to leave. Immediately. Before I do something profoundly stupid…like ask him what he’s thinking when he looks at me like that.

I drop into the driver’s seat quickly. “Goodbye, Thorn.”

He steps back from the car without argument. “Ocean sounds,” he says incongruently.

I stare at him. “Uh, what?”

“It’ll help you sleep.”

“I—”

He leans forward, carefully shuts the door, then steps back again.

I stare at him for a moment through the window, trying to make sense of him.

When I don’t—or can’t—I turn on my car and back out of the spot.

As I drive away, I catch one last glimpse of him through my rearview.

He’s standing there, watching me.

Looking like a dangerous man full of far too many secrets.

And, despite that, I still think of little else but Thorn Wilkenson the entire drive home.