A vague dread froze her in place. For a few seconds, she even stopped chewing. Time ticked by. She swallowed, picked up a napkin, patted her mouth, set the muffin aside. Took another drink.

Stalled.

“Cherry,” he whispered.

“Four years.”

That’s all she said, making him frown. “How old were you when you went there?”

“Fourteen.”

So she’d been on her own ever since? “You’re twenty-four now, right?”

“Yes.”

Six years on her own. “Where’d you go when you first left them?”

Her eyes flickered away again. “I moved here, to Ohio.”

Getting answers from Cherry was like pulling hen’s teeth. “From where?”

“Kentucky.”

Eighteen and alone, no job, in a new state... He wanted to know everything between when she’d left and now, but at the rate they were going that could take a while. So instead he got back on track. “When you lived with them, was it just the three boys? No other kids?”

“Yes.”

Done with the curt one-word replies, Denver tilted his head. “Why do you despise them so much?”

She stared him in the eyes. “You met them. They’re terrible people.”

“Now.”

“They were terrible then, too!” She snatched up her muffin and took another big bite.

This time Denver let her eat. The muffin was fresh, healthy, and she needed food as much as she needed sleep. Though she was recovering quicker than he’d expected, a slight rasp still sounded in her voice and her skin remained a little pale. But she no longer looked feverish or ready to keel over. Progress.

By tomorrow she should be just about there—just about well enough for him to taste her again, to feel her soft skin all over. To sink into her warmth—

“Am I holding you up?” she asked.

“No.”

“You’re just sitting there and staring at me like you’re waiting for something.”

He smiled. “I was thinking about tomorrow, hoping you’ll be ready for me.”

The empty muffin paper crumpled in her hand when she braced it at the edge of the table and leaned forward. “I’m ready now.”

So anxious. It was a very nice thing to be wanted by Cherry Peyton. “Not just yet.” She furrowed her brows, ready to debate it with him, so he threw out his biggest question. “Why’d you freak, girl?”

Her eyes widened.

Denver pushed back his chair. “When I admitted I’d met them, you lost it.”

She pressed back in her seat as he circled the table. “You only call me ‘girl’ when you’re thinking about sex.”

He confirmed it. “I’m thinking about sex.” But he didn’t relent. “Why’d you freak out?” And just in case she was considering it, “Don’t lie.”

“Stop accusing me of that!”

“Then stop fudging the truth.” He took her shoulders and eased her from the chair. So soft and female. Without meaning to, he caressed her. “You thought I had some kind of association with your brothers.”

“Not my brothers.”

“I’m glad of that.” He kissed her soft mouth, but kept it brief. “What did you think?”

The way she tasted her lips with her tongue made him a little nuts. “Kiss me again?”

“All right.” There were few things he’d enjoy more—other than getting his answers. “After you tell me.”

Shoving away from him, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to fudge things if you didn’t keep trying to take over.”

Is that what he was doing? “I thought we were involved.”

She whipped back around, her eyes big. “We are.”

“But you expect me not to care? You think I shouldn’t bother to understand?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. “That’s the kind of man you think I am?”

Using both hands, she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I think you’re wonderful.”

Keeping his stern expression wasn’t easy, not when he wanted to pick her up and hold her and tell her to stop worrying. But he honestly believed the best way to ease her worry was to get to the truth. Once he knew it all, he could help her come up with solutions.

Breath left her in a defeated sigh. “It’s not an easy story to tell.”

“You can tell me anything.”

With a negative shake of her head, she paced away. “It makes me sound stupid and gullible.”