“That’s logical. I’m looking at the big picture, and he hasn’t used a lot of logic so far. I don’t want you hurt. And I don’t want you dealing with anything like you dealt with this morning again because you’re involved with me.”
Eyeing him coolly, she took a slow sip of wine. “Are you cooking me a farewell dinner, Eli?”
“I think it’s better all around if we take a break.”
“‘It’s not you, it’s me’—is that the next line?”
“Look. It’s because I . . . because you matter to me. You’ve got some of your things in the house, and cops pawed through them today. Corbett may believe me, but Wolfe doesn’t—and he won’t stop. He’ll do everything he can to discredit you, because it’s your statement that takes me out of the equation in Duncan’s murder.”
“He’ll do that whether or not I’m with you.”
For a moment she considered how she felt about being protected—from harm, from ugly talk. She decided she felt fine about it, even if she didn’t intend to allow it.
“I appreciate your position. You think you need to protect me, to shield me from harm, from gossip, from police scrutiny, and I find I like being with a man who would try to do that. But the fact is, Eli, I’ve already been through all of it, and more, once in my life. I’m not going to give up what I want on the chance I may go through some of it again. You matter to me, too.”
She lifted her wine as she studied him. “I’d say we’re at an impasse on this, except for one thing.”
“What thing?”
“It’s going to depend on how you answer the question. Which is, do you believe women should get equal pay for equal work?”
“What? Yes. Why?”
“Good, because this discussion would veer off into another avenue if you’d said no. Do you also believe women have the right of choice?”
“Jesus.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Yes.” He saw exactly where she was taking him, and began to work on a rebuttal in his head.
“Excellent. That saves a long, heated debate. Rights come with responsibilities. It’s my choice how I live my life, who I’m with, who I care for. It’s my right to make those choices, and I take the responsibility.”
Her eyes narrowed on his face. “Oh, go right ahead.”
“And what?”
“Raised by a lawyer,” she reminded him. “I can see Mr. Harvard Law thinking through how to make a complicated argument to tangle up all my points. So go ahead. You can even throw out a couple of ‘wherefores.’ It won’t make any difference. My mind’s made up.”
He shifted gears. “Do you understand how much I’ll worry?”
Abra tipped her chin down, and those narrowed eyes went steely.
“That always works for my mother,” he pleaded.
“You’re not my mother,” she reminded him. “Plus you don’t have mother-power. You’re stuck with me, Eli. If you cut me loose, it has to be because you don’t want me, or you want someone else, or something else. If I walk away, it has to be for the same reasons.”
Feelings on the table, he thought. “Lindsay didn’t matter anymore, but every day I regret I couldn’t do anything to stop what happened to her.”
“She mattered once, and she didn’t deserve to die that way. You’d have protected her if you could.” She rose, went to him, slid her arms around his waist.
“I’m not Lindsay. You and I are going to look out for each other. We’re both smart. We’ll figure it out.”
He drew her in, stood with his cheek pressed to hers. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He didn’t know how he would keep that unspoken promise to her, to himself, but he’d do whatever he needed to do to keep it.
“Smart? I’m following a recipe for morons.”
“It’s your first day on the job.”
“I’m supposed to cube that chicken. What the hell does that mean?”
She drew back, then moved in again for a long, satisfying kiss. “Once again, I’ll demonstrate.”
She was in and out of the house. Early classes, cleaning jobs—his included—marketing, private lessons, tarot readings for a birthday party.
He barely knew she was there when he was working, yet when she wasn’t, he knew it acutely. The energy—he was starting to think like her—of the house seemed to wane without her in it.
They walked on the beach, and though he’d firmly decided cooking would never be a form of relaxation for him, he pitched in to help now and then.