Page 46 of Target Acquired
“Not completely with words, but you definitely did. I suppose I could be wrong.”
Unfortunately, she didn’t think he was, guy or not. And if the look on his face was any indication, neither did he.
She dropped her face into her palms and tried to gain control of the emotions swamping her. Cole’s hand on her shoulder pulled her attention up to him. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispered.
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“Well, great. Now what?”
“Apologize?”
She scowled. “Apologize. To them. For . . .” She’d learned long ago to never apologize because they would take it as a sign of weakness.
Cole shot her a confused smile. “Well, yeah. They’re the ones you wronged.”
“But did I? Wrong them? I just told them I’m fine. Which I am”—she coughed—“other than a small cough. Now that I think about it, I just spoke the truth. So, how exactly did I wrong them? Maybe it’s their interpretation of what I said that was wrong.”
Cole simply watched her with a knowing expression on his face, and she flopped back onto the pillow with a huff. And a grimace. “Ugh. I don’t do apologies well,” she muttered. “At least not with my family. They’re very hard to apologize to because they usually throw it back in my face.”
“It’s totally your decision, but you asked me what happened and that’s my take.”
“Fine. I’ll apologize.” She would do so if it was anyone else in her life. The fact that it was her family she needed to apologize to shouldn’t cause her stomach to knot. They’d see her as weak. And while that had mattered when she was a teen on into her early twenties, did it matter now? As long as she knew the truth?
It shouldn’t.
“Good.” He patted her hand and started for the door.
“Cole . . . do you think it was a mistake? My joining SWAT?”
He paused, his back to her, then his head dropped and he sighed. Then turned. “Kenzie, we’ve known each other a long time. Not like best friends or anything, but our families have. Kash and Paul and I weren’t really friends, per se, since they’re so much older than I am, but Logan and I were tight. Still are.”
“I know. I used to be jealous of y’all going down to the lake to go fishing. I wanted to go, but Grandma Betsy wouldn’t let me. Said you two needed ‘guy time.’”
He laughed. “We did.”
“Well, I’m going on record as officially feeling left out.”
“If I could turn back time—”
“You two would still leave me behind.”
“Yeah, we probably would.”
She sighed. “We had a pretty good childhood before my mom died. After that, everything seemed to fall apart.” She picked at the fuzz on the blanket covering her from the waist down. “Except for summers with Grandma Betsy.” Tears filled her eyes and she blinked at the wetness. When was the last time she’d cried? And why now? “I need to go visit her. It’s been way too long. I’m ashamed.”
“I’m sure she understands.”
“She does, but still . . . she gave me a house. The least I can do is see her on a regular basis.” And ugh. More tears. Stop it.
She brushed away the sign of weakness only to look up and see Cole watching her with such compassion that more tears pushed their way to the surface. She sniffed and shook her head, willing her throat to relax.
He nudged her. “Move over. Gently. Be sure not to hurt yourself.”
“What?”
“Move over. I need room.”
What in the world? She scooted—carefully as instructed, hand pressed to her wound—and Cole settled onto the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. Confused, but not in the least little bit of a hurry to get away, she settled her head against his chest, mind spinning. “Is this how you comfort the other guys on the team?” she murmured.