Page 48 of Target Acquired
“Which I do appreciate.”
“But do I think it was a mistake hiring you? No. Now more than ever.”
She sighed. “I know that men and women are made differently—”
He muttered something.
“What?”
“Nothing, go on.”
Kenzie frowned. She could have sworn he’d said something that sounded suspiciously like “Thank God for that.”
“Anyway,” she said, “I know that in this kind of job, sometimes brawn wins. I get it. Hands down, every guy on the team would win a strength contest with me.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “You overheard us talking about this, didn’t you?”
“What? Who? When?”
“Uh, never mind. Continue please.”
He’d been talking? About how she was weak? Or the guys were stronger? She’d address that later. “But I’m smart. And I have other abilities. And truly, thankfully, in my position, I don’t have to rely on strength much. I can leave that to you guys.”
“But . . .”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m naive. I suppose I thought that even if the guys—you—had reservations at first, that I’d be able to prove I deserved the spot I was given.”
“You have, Kenzie,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve proven it.”
She tilted her head at him. “So, is that why you feel like this is okay now?”
COLE FROZE ONCE MORE. Was it?
“No.” He sighed and slid off the bed, careful not to jar her side. She shot him a skeptical look, and he couldn’t blame her. “No,” he said again with more conviction. “I . . .” He waved a hand. “I don’t know what this was. I’m sorry.” And he was. He had no business treating Kenzie different from any other team member. He was an idiot. “I just felt so bad for you that I—”
She flushed. Then her eyes did that glitter thing that told him he’d just messed up big-time. “That you thought I needed a pity cuddle?” she asked.
He blinked. “A . . . a what?”
“You felt sorry for me, so you decided to give me a pity cuddle. Well, I don’t need your pity or your . . . your . . . stupid cuddles, so just treat me like one of the guys and we’ll forget this ever happened.”
Cole gaped. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Probably,” she muttered. “If not, I’m getting close.” She sighed before he could respond. “Just go away, Cole.”
He was not going away. “Sorry, you don’t get to do that.” He planted his hands on his hips. “I have no idea what a pity cuddle is, but that was not one. I saw a fellow human and friend in pain and wanted to help. That was the only way I knew how to do that, and I’m not going to feel guilty for it. As for treating you like one of the guys, I’ve done that.” And he was over it. She wasn’t one of the guys—well, she was and she wasn’t. Professionally, yeah, okay. But personally. Nope. And now he was going to have to figure out how to deal with that. Or run. Running was sounding better and better by the moment. But he wasn’t a runner.
He sighed. “I guess I should take my own advice then, huh?”
She frowned. “What?”
“About apologizing. I’m sorry, Kenzie, it was my intention to comfort, not come across as offering pity. I offended you and I’m sorry.”
It was her turn to blink. And swallow. Then meet his gaze.
She deflated with a heavy sigh. “It’s okay, Cole. I appreciate the comfort.” She offered him a small smile. “It helped. It’s me, not you.”
He barked a laugh. “I’ve heard that one before.” Boy, had he.