chance.”
“I didn’t go in today. It was almost seven when I got home, and I knew I didn’t want to fall asleep at my desk.”
“They ran tests on me all day. I knew I’d have to get out of there if I hoped to get any sleep tonight,” he told her.
“I don’t know …” Her hesitation was automatic. She wasn’t accustomed to sharing her safe space, even temporarily. The smell of pepperoni made its way to her nostrils, and she gave in. After sharing last night’s experience, how dangerous could sharing a pizza be? “I’ve got some beer in the fridge,” she told him as she opened the cabinet and took down two plates.
He took two bottles of cold beer out, opened them and set them on the table while she tore off sheets of paper towels for napkins.
“I don’t entertain much,” she explained apologetically as she tried to make them fancier up by folding them and placing them on the plates.
“Hey, at least you have paper towels. I usually use the napkins that come in the fast food bag,” he told her.
He was, in fact, the first male guest in her home, and although it should have made her uncomfortable, his casual acceptance of her amenities … or lack of … kept it from being awkward. They dug into the pizza with gusto, not talking until only one piece remained.
Rusty looked at it, then at Julie. “The last piece is yours.”
She leaned back in her chair. “No, take it. I’m stuffed.”
He didn’t hesitate and picked it up. “I’m impressed. You ate your share. I like a woman who knows how to eat.”
“Eating is one thing I do well,” she said with a smile, “that is, when I have time.” She stood up and went to the refrigerator. “Want another beer?”
“Do you have to ask?” Rusty finished off the piece of pizza and wiped his lips on the paper towel. She opened two more bottles, handed one to him and returned to her chair with hers. They each took a drink.
She could feel his gaze on her and she looked up.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he said thoughtfully, “but I could have sworn you had brown eyes.”
Julie immediately ducked her head, hiding her naturally blue eyes from his view. Damn. She’d forgotten that she wasn’t wearing her brown contact lens. Her mind raced for a plausible explanation. She looked up again, but avoided his direct gaze.
“I prefer brown eyes, so I usually wear brown contacts. I just woke up about an hour before you got here, so I haven’t put them in.”
“Are you near or far-sighted?”
“Uh … neither, actually. I wear them just because I like the way they look.”
He didn’t appear to believe her explanation, but he didn’t challenge it. Instead, he changed the subject back to one they had studiously been avoiding.
“So, how did you talk Joe into it?”
“I didn’t think I had.” She ran her fingers through her hair, flipping the long black strands over her shoulder. “When we ended the conversation, he didn’t give any indication that he had changed his mind. I was afraid he would …” her voice trailed off.
“It’s weird, but I kind of understand the whole Stockholm Syndrome thing after this. I had no idea whether or not he was going to trigger those bombs at any minute,” Rusty told her. “Even though I really thought he was going to kill us, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. No job, no insurance, no wife, about to lose his house. Everything he had worked for … gone. Poor guy. The more time I spent in that room, surrounded by all that stuff that was obviously exactly the same as it had been the day his wife left him …”
“His wife didn’t leave him,” Julie interrupted sharply.
“Yeah, she did. She ran off with a firefighter,” Rusty insisted.
Julie shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She was killed by a firefighter, well, sort of. She died in a collision with a fire truck. She was either distracted or fell asleep after a night shift at the hospital where she worked as a nurse.
“I didn’t go in today. It was almost seven when I got home, and I knew I didn’t want to fall asleep at my desk.”
“They ran tests on me all day. I knew I’d have to get out of there if I hoped to get any sleep tonight,” he told her.
“I don’t know …” Her hesitation was automatic. She wasn’t accustomed to sharing her safe space, even temporarily. The smell of pepperoni made its way to her nostrils, and she gave in. After sharing last night’s experience, how dangerous could sharing a pizza be? “I’ve got some beer in the fridge,” she told him as she opened the cabinet and took down two plates.
He took two bottles of cold beer out, opened them and set them on the table while she tore off sheets of paper towels for napkins.
“I don’t entertain much,” she explained apologetically as she tried to make them fancier up by folding them and placing them on the plates.
“Hey, at least you have paper towels. I usually use the napkins that come in the fast food bag,” he told her.
He was, in fact, the first male guest in her home, and although it should have made her uncomfortable, his casual acceptance of her amenities … or lack of … kept it from being awkward. They dug into the pizza with gusto, not talking until only one piece remained.
Rusty looked at it, then at Julie. “The last piece is yours.”
She leaned back in her chair. “No, take it. I’m stuffed.”
He didn’t hesitate and picked it up. “I’m impressed. You ate your share. I like a woman who knows how to eat.”
“Eating is one thing I do well,” she said with a smile, “that is, when I have time.” She stood up and went to the refrigerator. “Want another beer?”
“Do you have to ask?” Rusty finished off the piece of pizza and wiped his lips on the paper towel. She opened two more bottles, handed one to him and returned to her chair with hers. They each took a drink.
She could feel his gaze on her and she looked up.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he said thoughtfully, “but I could have sworn you had brown eyes.”
Julie immediately ducked her head, hiding her naturally blue eyes from his view. Damn. She’d forgotten that she wasn’t wearing her brown contact lens. Her mind raced for a plausible explanation. She looked up again, but avoided his direct gaze.
“I prefer brown eyes, so I usually wear brown contacts. I just woke up about an hour before you got here, so I haven’t put them in.”
“Are you near or far-sighted?”
“Uh … neither, actually. I wear them just because I like the way they look.”
He didn’t appear to believe her explanation, but he didn’t challenge it. Instead, he changed the subject back to one they had studiously been avoiding.
“So, how did you talk Joe into it?”
“I didn’t think I had.” She ran her fingers through her hair, flipping the long black strands over her shoulder. “When we ended the conversation, he didn’t give any indication that he had changed his mind. I was afraid he would …” her voice trailed off.
“It’s weird, but I kind of understand the whole Stockholm Syndrome thing after this. I had no idea whether or not he was going to trigger those bombs at any minute,” Rusty told her. “Even though I really thought he was going to kill us, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. No job, no insurance, no wife, about to lose his house. Everything he had worked for … gone. Poor guy. The more time I spent in that room, surrounded by all that stuff that was obviously exactly the same as it had been the day his wife left him …”
“His wife didn’t leave him,” Julie interrupted sharply.
“Yeah, she did. She ran off with a firefighter,” Rusty insisted.
Julie shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She was killed by a firefighter, well, sort of. She died in a collision with a fire truck. She was either distracted or fell asleep after a night shift at the hospital where she worked as a nurse.
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