Page 47 of Karma

She reached for the bowl, intending to put it in the sink, when Dare placed a hand on her arm. “Wait,” he said.

She paused but remained silent.

“The tattoo has meaning. Deep, dark, personal meaning,” he said, his stare on the table and not on her.

“So sorry I pried,” she said, not hiding her sarcasm.

It wasn’t okay for him to get into her head and her feelings about family, only to decide later that there were some things he wouldn’t reveal and that he would freeze her out for asking a simple question.

“Look, it’s not something I usually talk about. People don’t usually ask.”

She hadn’t realized she was just anyone. She stiffened, her pride and her hurt getting stronger with every word he spoke. “If that’s supposed to help, it doesn’t.”

He exhaled hard, and though she could see this was difficult for him, she needed more than a surface explanation. But she wouldn’t beg for him to let her in.

“Would it help if I said that if I was going to talk to anyone, it would be you?”

She blinked at the unexpected, softer admission. “Whenever you’re ready,” she heard herself saying.

“How about now?” he asked, surprising her in an equally soft tone.

She curled her fingers into a tight ball, angry with him for drawing out her feelings when she wanted to stay distant, to remain in a place where Dare and his emotions couldn’t touch her.

But they did. “I’m listening,” she said begrudgingly because she still wasn’t sure he wanted to share this with her.

He raised his head and met her gaze. “I thought you had to get on the road?”

She had an early appointment in Mystic, Connecticut, to discuss the first phase of renovations with a client. “I was supposed to head over, but I got a text from my accountant. He needs me to stop by this morning before I leave.”

Peter Dalton always arrived at the office before everyone else and left promptly at five, his work meticulously completed. If he’d contacted her so early, she knew it was important and probably had to do with her brother. Her stomach churned at the thought of more Brian drama, but that wasn’t her concern at the moment. Nor did she want to discuss her brother with Dare.

Liza turned toward him. The pain in his face was unmistakable, and she realized she shouldn’t have been so sensitive. Whatever the story was behind the tattoo, it was deep and obviously important.

And he was willing to share it with her.

“I’m listening,” she said softly, with more of her heart than she’d opened before.

“Remember we talked about the party your brother threw back when we were kids?” Dare asked, the words sounding torn from inside him.

She nodded, her stomach in even more knots now.

Before Dare could continue, the front doorbell rang.

Liza frowned, annoyed at the interruption. “Just ignore it,” she said. She wasn’t expecting company.

For all she knew, it could be a neighbor, and she didn’t want anyone to interrupt his story. “Go on,” she encouraged him.

The doorbell rang again, followed by loud banging.

“Someone’s impatient,” Dare said, turning in the direction of the sound.

With a groan, Liza rose to her feet. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is,” she promised. She headed to the door, Dare following her.

She peered through the small window that overlooked the porch, took one glance at her visitor, and muttered a very unladylike curse.

“Who is it?” Dare asked.

She shook her head, wishing she’d followed her gut and ignored the bell.