Chapter Twenty – It's Cold Outside
by Barbara Edwards
Mitch’s heart pounded at the sight of Candy seated at the table, her head in her hands. The rich smell of homemade stew filled the air. Guilt tightened his throat. She’d cooked supper for him. She couldn’t be holding a grudge, could she?
He quietly closed the door behind the dog. He had to tell her how his feelings had changed.
He groaned when Major laid his head in Candy’s lap. She ignored him, while she rubbed his dog’s silky ears.
Mitch knew how those fingers felt, and his skin burned at the memory.
“What do you want, Mitch? To talk? You’re not the only one who needed time to think.” A sigh trembled from her lips.
She finally looked at him, and he wished she hadn’t. Her reddened eyes revealed she’d been crying.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. His cold fingers fumbled with the zipper of his jacket.
“For what? Not telling me who you are? Pretending to be interested in my past?” Her hazel eyes sparked with anger. “For making love to me like you really cared?”
Mitch held his hands up to stop the barrage of words. They found their target, anyway, ripping pieces from his heart. When he opened his mouth, nothing came out but a low groan.
Candy jerked to her feet.
Major scrambled to avoid being stepped on as she advanced until her face was inches from his. The varied colors of her hazel eyes glittered up at him. “Are you going to explain?”
His jaw worked as he tried to force out all the things he’d kept locked inside for ten years. All the horror and heartbreak. “I can’t,” he said, defeated.
She gave him a look cold enough to frost the Georgia Dome in August. “Then I’m out of here.”