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246 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published December 17, 2008
"Hope you like the underwear you have on; I didn’t go through your drawers.”
“Afraid it might get you all turned on?” Shane asked from over her shoulder.
“Please say yes.” He grabbed a pair of his own jeans from the pile. “And please stay out of my closet.”
Eve gave him the finger. “If you’re worried about me finding your porn stash, old news, man. Also, you have really boring taste.”
He nodded to them, took her hands, and looked into her eyes. Say it, she thought. But he didn’t. He just kissed her hands, turned, and walked away, dragging her red, bleeding heart with him—metaphorically, anyway.
“Got your back, Shane.”
“Watch Claire’s and Eve’s. I’ll take the lead.”
“What about me?” Monica whined.
“Do you really want to know?” Shane gave her a glare that should have scorched her hair off. “Be grateful I’m not leaving you as an after-dinner mint on his pillow.”
Myrnin leaned close to Claire’s ear and said, “I think I like your young man.” When she reacted in pure confusion, he held up his hands, smiling. “Not in that way, my dear. He just seems quite trustworthy.”
Claire stretched out against the wall and kissed it. “Glad to see you, too,” she whispered, and pressed her cheek against the smooth surface. It almost felt like it hugged her back.
“Dude, it’s a house,” Shane said from behind her. “Hug somebody who cares.”
He touched her face. His fingers traced down her cheek, across her lips, and his eyes—she’d never seen that look in his eyes. In anyone’s, really. “In this whole screwed-up town, you’re the only thing that’s always been right to me,” he whispered. “I love you, Claire.”
She saw something that might have been just a flash of panic go across his expression, but then he steadied again. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I do. I love you.”
“I love you,” he said, and kissed her so hard he took her breath away. There was more to it than before—more passion, more urgency, more . . . everything. It was as if she were caught in a tide, carried away, and she thought that if she never touched the shore again, it would be good to drown like this, just swim forever in all this richness. Red flag, some part of her screamed, come on, red flag. What are you doing? She wished it would just shut up.
Why now?” she whispered. “The last thing we need is—”
“Help?”
“He’s not help. He’s chaos!”
Shane gestured at the burning town. “Take a good look, Claire. How much worse can it get?”
Lots, she thought. Shane, in some ways, still had a rose-colored view of his father. It had been a while since his dad had blown out of town, and she thought that Shane had probably convinced imself that the guy wasn’t all that bad. He was probably thinking now that his dad would come sweeping in to save them.
It wasn’t going to happen. Frank Collins was a fanatic, car-bomb variety, and he didn’t care who got hurt.