Page 33 of Blue-Eyed Hero

“Not much to talk about. She’s dead.”

Allison’s hands landed gently on the countertop, her head tilting slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that. How’d she die?”

There were two answers to that question—the one that made the papers and the truth. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Allison placed her elbow on the counter, resting her chin on her hand, and leaned into him. Her whisky-colored eyes locked on his and narrowed. “One day, I’m going to figure you out.”

“That’ll never happen.”

“Then you underestimate my reporting skills.”

He shook his head. “I don’t doubt them, but even the most skilled reporter would have trouble.”

Her eyebrow arched. “What are you hiding?”

The first twenty-two years of his life. Every member of his family. A last name that would give him away in a heartbeat if he went by it. Allison would never know those things unless he told her. If he had to tell anyone, though, she’d be his only choice. She didn’t always respect his wishes on other matters—hell she never did—but with this, he knew she would. Because if she didn’t, that would put his life in jeopardy and while she was quick to gamble her own, she wouldn’t risk his. It was a bet he’d take any day.

And while he wanted to lift the burden of holding onto this secret for so long, for living a life of a man who didn’t exist before he showed up in Willow Cove, he couldn’t. If Allison knew, she’d be in even more danger than she already was.

The microwave beeped and Allison jolted again, letting a little squeak slip from her throat. Normally he’d find it adorable, but right now he knew she was suppressing her fears. She could act like she wasn’t scared, even believe she wasn’t, but the fact that she didn’t want him to leave proved she was.

“Don’t burn yourself this time.”

“Haha. Very funny.” She grabbed an oven mitt before taking the container out of the microwave. She placed it on the counter across from him and sat. “You can eat now.”

They ate in silence for a few moments. The chicken burger was better than he expected. He should have known. Everything that had to do with Allison was better than expected. His mind drifted to the vision of their bodies pressed together, and he shifted in his seat.

“I have a birthmark on my ass. Right cheek,” she blurted, and his head snapped up.

“Come again?”

“Sorry.” She waved her hand. “It was awkward silence which I hated and I just made it more awkward.”

He loved the crimson that spread across her nose and cheeks. He loved that she seemed so out of her element right now. The confident Allison Winters was embarrassed, and there was no way in hell he was letting it go. “Isn’t a birthmark an indicator of how you died in a past life?”

“Oh good. I died of a stab wound to the ass in a past life then. Awesome.”

“It’s possible. Bad infection. Conditions in the past weren’t exactly sanitary.”

“Well, I’d have you know my ass is very clean and quite nice, thanks to a regiment workout schedule, so can we please move on?”

Oh, that was not happening. “I rather like this topic and have to agree. Your ass is quite nice.” He shouldn’t have said it, but at this point he was leaning toward the fuck-it end of the spectrum.

Her eyelashes fanned down before popping up. “I didn’t know you were looking.”

“Any hot-blooded male would notice.” It was impossible not to. Everything about her was perfect.

“Is that so?”

He shrugged. He’d already said too much.

“Okay then. What about you?”

“Do I have a birthmark on my ass? No. At least, not that I know of. Don’t spend much time looking at it.”

“Why not? Your ass is quite nice as well.”

Surprise slammed into him, but he refused to let it show. “You’ve looked?”