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Undercover Protector. Melinda Di LorenzoЧитать онлайн книгу.

Undercover Protector - Melinda Di Lorenzo


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not sure if I wish I’d seen it before, or if I’m glad I’m seeing it like this for the first time.”

      Anderson surveyed the space himself. Aside from tossing his suitcase to the ground when he’d first arrived, he hadn’t spent much time inside at all. He really hadn’t taken the time to look around at all. Now he could see that it was tastefully decorated with boldly romantic coloring. Not rustically styled like the exterior of the lodge. Instead, the suite was...soft. Cream walls and cream carpet with pops of burgundy that added a touch of sexiness. He wondered absently what the bedroom looked like. Then his eye caught Nadine, and the wondering became a little less absent.

      He cleared his throat and made himself ask in a teasing voice, “The honeymoon suite, specifically?”

      Nadine shot him a dirty look. “No. Being a bride wasn’t high on my list of fantasies.”

      “Not one of those little girls, huh?”

      “My dad’s driving job made him keep weird hours. His secret, second family took him away even more.” She made a face and then went on. “When I was little, I thought all fathers and husbands spent that much time apart from their families. I didn’t like it much and didn’t want a life like that. But then I found out the truth, and it was even worse, so... Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear all that.”

      Anderson shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I like to listen to stories about other people’s abnormal upbringings. They make my own seem that much saner.”

      “Ha-ha.”

      “I’m serious. My parents were high school sweethearts who dropped out of school when they found out they were expecting me. They used to do what they called high-five parenting. My dad would work all night at the gas station while my mom and I slept. Then he’d come home, and she’d go to work at the grocery store. We moved around a lot because they could rarely keep up with rent.”

      Nadine winced. “That must’ve been hard for you. And them.”

      Out of habit, he shrugged off the sympathy. “It was just life. It wasn’t until I started school that I realized ramen noodles and frozen vegetables and boxed cereal weren’t the only things on the menu. A weird little light bulb went off in my five-year-old brain. I kept my mouth shut about it until third grade. Then I vividly remember coming home and telling my mom about some of the things the kids brought in their lunch boxes and how I wanted them. I’d worked out a whole plan on how unfair it was that they made me so different. She cried. That same night, we moved again. This time from our apartment to my grandparents’ place. I thought it was my fault for wanting some packaged fruit snacks.”

      “But it wasn’t. Of course.”

      “No.”

      Anderson looked down at his hands, recalling the confusion and misguided guilt. It wasn’t a memory he normally shared. Or one he even liked to think about. He got the feeling, though, that it was doing Nadine good to hear it. Her face was open and interested, her body leaning forward. She’d been through a hell of a lot over the last little while. Anderson might not have been there when her brother was killed, but he was more than happy to try to make things a little easier for her now.

      And it feels good to get it off my chest, too, he admitted to himself.

      That was a surprise. One he didn’t want to reason through right that second. Or even have time to think about. He had a case to concern himself with. A bad guy he needed to keep away from Nadine, a worse guy he needed to connect their current predicament to and fifteen years’ worth of justice to serve out.

      He brought his gaze up again with the intention of saying as much. But his mouth had different ideas.

      “My mom never told me directly,” he said, “but there were lots of whispers, and I heard them all. The day I came home and complained was the same day my dad left her a Dear John letter.”

      “Your dad left the two of you behind?”

      “For about six months. My grandparents only took us in on the condition that my mom never have contact with him again. I learned that from the whispers, too. They hated him. Thought he wasn’t good enough for her. So they weren’t very happy when he turned up on their doorstep.”

      “But your mom took him back, just like that?”

      Anderson laughed. “Not even close. It took my dad a month just to get her to talk to him again. He showed up every morning with a cup of coffee and a single rose.”

      “Persistent,” Nadine stated.

      “And apologetic. A lot.”

      “So what was his excuse for leaving in the first place?”

      “Turns out his opinion of himself coincided with the one my grandparents had.”

      “He thought you and your mom would be better off without him.”

      “Exactly. But it turned out he was more selfish than he thought.”

      Nadine’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

      Anderson smiled. “He hated being away from us more than he wanted to make things better for us, apparently. So he came up with a plan—become a cop.”

      “I guess it would be hard for your grandparents to argue with that.”

      “Yep. My mom, too. She loved him, and when he told her he’d enrolled in the training program already...”

      “What? She was powerless to say no?” Her smile softened the question.

      He met her eyes. “Isn’t that what true love is all about?”

      “Powerlessness?”

      “Yep.”

      “I hope not.”

      “You sure about that?”

      “Why would anyone want to be powerless to say no?”

      He leaned forward. “Because it’s two sides of the same coin when you’re really in love. All powerful and completely powerless at the same time.”

      “Do you know that firsthand?”

      Nadine’s face didn’t change as she spoke, but the air in the room was another story. It shifted. Warmed. And Anderson couldn’t help but wonder if the question held more meaning than a simple addition to the conversation.

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