Falling for the New Guy

But all the rationalizations in the world didn’t stop him from shoving his feet into his shoes and jogging out the door, not even bothering to lock the dead bolt, which was unheard of.

He took the stairs two at a time and pushed out the building door to the parking lot. Tess was just opening her car door.

“Tess!”

She stopped and looked up at him, her expression some mix between sheepish and defeated. “Hey, sorry I had to bail. I...”

He crossed to her side of the car, only a little out of breath. “It’s okay, I just...” He just what? Hated the idea of her going to see her father alone? “If you’re going to see your dad, let me come with you.”

Her eyebrows drew together, clearly perplexed. “Um, no. I’m sorry. Thanks for the offer, really, but I can handle this.”

He reached out and took her arm, couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help any of this. Maybe she was right and he did have some misguided superhero sense of duty, but how could he watch her go into a situation that could get her hurt?

His thumb brushed over where she’d had the gash on her arm that first night. “Maybe you can, but a little backup couldn’t hurt.” Because if she did come back scathed, how would he be able to live with having let her go?

“I know you think the cut thing was him hurting me on purpose, but it wasn’t.” She patted his hand that grasped her arm. “The glass broke and a shard got me. He didn’t, like, come up and slash me.”

“How did it break?”

She blinked then looked away. “Well...”

He had seen that look before. Almost always on a woman convinced she was at fault for another man’s violence. “Well what?”

“He threw it.”

“Where?”

“At me.” She let out a gusty sigh and disentangled her arm from his grasp. “Look, I get it, really. I know what it looks like. But...he isn’t a monster. It’s not like he spent my whole life beating me. When he’s bad off, he gets violent. Yes, occasionally I get the brunt of that, but I can take care of myself, Marc. I’m a cop, too.”

“Tess—”

“I’ve done the bring a big-burly-guy-to-be-my-protector thing before. My boyfriend right out of high school was a bodybuilder. Bigger than you, Mr. Football Shoulders. All it did was agitate Dad from the start. He and James got in a brawl. Besides, he knows who you are. You’re the cop he wasn’t too pleased with the other day. So it would only escalate the situation.”

“So don’t go.”

She shook her head, looking immeasurably sad. So much worse than his own lame-ass pity party a few minutes ago. “I can’t let him kill himself or hurt other people. I have to fix this. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. I know how to handle it.”

“If it’s been going on your whole life, why do you think you can fix it?” There had to be some way he could convince her not to go, to stay here, safe.

“I do sometimes fix it, thank you very much. I have gotten him help before, and things go okay for a while. But addiction isn’t easy to break.” She poked a finger into the center of his chest. “I appreciate what you’ve done for me so far, but I’m not about to let you think you can elbow your way into my life or my business. I can handle this.”

“I’m not saying you can’t.”

“Oh, really.”

“He hurt you. That isn’t—”

“It is what it is. I can handle it. I have handled it. On my own, for thirty-some years. And here I stand before you, in one piece. So I highly suggest you back the eff off, Marc.” She wrenched her door open, slid into the driver’s seat. Before she could pull it closed, he grabbed it, earning him a glare. “Seriously, Marc, this is not okay.”