Special Forces Saviour. Janie Crouch
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It’s all in your hair.”
Her face that had just been so flushed and soft from his kisses became shuttered. Her arms dropped to her sides, before one came up to her head to find the plaster he had mentioned. Why the hell had he said that? He didn’t care about anything being in her hair. He’d just meant that she had been through a trauma and that they shouldn’t do anything she might regret.
Or he might regret. Like break her heart.
“Oh. Yeah. I—I probably need a shower pretty badly.”
The thought of Molly in the shower had everything in Derek’s body tightening, but the slight stutter wasn’t lost on him. He hated that he’d made her uncomfortable around him again. And her eyes were wounded.
Damn it. He had to get out of here just to stop the damage he was inflicting.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, okay?” He glanced down at his watch. “Actually, that’s only about four hours from now, so let’s make it ten. You’ll need to give an official report.”
Molly nodded and stepped inside her door. She picked up his jacket and held it out to him, wary, as if she didn’t know what to expect.
Derek didn’t blame her. He couldn’t run more hot and cold if he tried.
He took the blazer from her. “Just get some rest. It’s been a crazy day for all of us.”
He waited until she closed the door—without a word—then turned and walked back to his car.
Damn it.
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