She smirked. “I could tell you there’s nothing to worry about, but I think I’d be wasting my breath.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Leaning up to kiss his lips gently, Ginger obeyed, whispered the reassurance to him twice. When she tried to deepen the kiss, Derek pulled back.
“Don’t try to distract me. We have too much to discuss. Including why you were so dressed up yesterday afternoon.”
Ginger flopped back onto the pillow. “Oh, that.” He held on to his impatience while she fidgeted with the bedspread nervously. “I had lunch with a man who owns a furniture store in Wicker Park. I bought some antique chairs there last week and we got to talking about my designs. He asked to see pictures, so we met for lunch and I showed him some.”
“And?”
“And he wants to sell them in his shop.”
She still wouldn’t look at him, so he grasped her chin and turned her until their eyes met. “Ginger, that’s great. You weren’t going to say anything?”
“Not unless they sold.”
“They’ll sell,” he said with confidence.
“Well, let’s hope so. I called Sensation yesterday and quit.”
He tried to keep the sweeping relief from his face. “You’re full of surprises this morning. Is there a particular reason?”
She ran the arch of her foot along his calf. “Besides my boyfriend showing up and raising hell? Dragging me out in the middle of my shift?”
“Say that again.”
“Which part?”
“The part where you call me your boyfriend with that accent that makes me crazy.”
“I’ll say it again if you kiss me.”
He smiled and shook his head. “All in good time, sweetheart.”
“If you insist,” she sighed. “But if this is going to be a long conversation, I’m going to get comfortable.”
She grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and peeled it over her head to reveal a cropped pink tank top that bared just a hint of her smooth stomach. Then she stretched out like a cat right in front of him.
Derek’s fingers dug into the comforter to prevent himself from reaching for her. He’d sworn to himself they would talk this morning. Ginger counted on sex as a means to distract him. And, God, watching her slide around on his sheets, he came damn close to forgetting his resolve. But if he gave in every time, they would never move forward. She probably didn’t even realize the extent to which she used her sensuality to avoid having difficult conversations.
Last night had been a turning point, but despite the progress they’d made at the hospital, he’d need to walk a fine line with Ginger. He needed her trust.
Derek dragged his gaze away from her body. “Tell me why you really quit.”
Her eyes shot to his in surprise, then glanced away. “Honestly? I’d called security ten minutes earlier about that guy who grabbed me. They didn’t take me seriously. If you hadn’t shown up…” she trailed off, oblivious to his mounting anger. “You don’t know a lot about where I came from. I worked in a place called Bobby’s Hideaway for four years before I left Nashville. The kind of thing you saw that night happened frequently there. When I left Nashville, I left that behind. I don’t want to feel unsafe at my job anymore.”
Fury gripped him by the neck. For the girl she’d been and the woman she’d become. He’d die before he let her go through anything resembling her past life again.
His voice shook. “You don’t ever have to feel unsafe again. I won’t allow it.”
Apprehension clouded her features. “I made a decision on the drive home last night from the hospital. If we’re really going to try this…”
“We are.”
Her eyes squeezed shut. “Then there are some things I want you to know about me first. Things you deserve to know.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ginger’s heart pounded. She was actually going to tell Derek about the money she’d stolen. Everything that happened next between them would depend on his reaction. She didn’t harbor any fears that he would arrest her or demand she return the cash to Valerie. She could rest easy on that score. But one thing she’d learned about Derek? He took his job as a law officer very seriously. How would he feel about having a thief in his bed?
If anyone had told her a week ago she would be considering a relationship, with a cop no less, she would have laughed and called that person a filthy liar. Well, here she was. And she’d be damned if she’d waste her time pretending to be someone else. He would accept the worst of her or nothing at all.
Maybe she’d shed a little bit of her former self this week by quitting Sensation and taking a meeting with an actual businessman about her furniture. But she would never completely shed the girl from Nashville who’d once flashed her breasts at a hardware store owner in exchange for him installing a deadbolt on her and Willa’s bedroom door. That Ginger had worked with what the good Lord gave her, and she would never be ashamed of her actions.