Derek hoped for her sake she didn’t try to change her mind, because he didn’t intend to let her go. He would fight every single insecurity swimming around in that beautiful head to keep her. Hell, he had insecurities, too. Could he make a woman like Ginger happy outside of bed? He’d spent thirty years remaining emotionally detached from the opposite sex, but if he was going to demand Ginger open up and trust him, he couldn’t keep her at a distance. Nor did he want to.
Despite the troubling details he’d discovered about her past, he still needed to learn so much about her. In addition to her loyalty to Willa, he knew her to be strong-willed and perceptive, funny and compassionate. She’d been ruthless about taking a different path than her mother, but still used her looks to make men hop when she needed something. A fact that set him on edge. He alone would see to her needs now.
He felt her slip into bed with him at eight thirty. Waiting to see what she would do, Derek kept his breathing even and remained still. The mattress barely moved under her slight weight, but he felt her lift the covers and scoot across the bed, closer to him. After a moment wherein he struggled against rolling over and pinning her, Ginger’s arm slid around his waist and she pressed herself against him.
Powerful relief moved through him. Derek realized he hadn’t fully expected her to feel the same way in the light of day. Knowing that she hadn’t changed her mind about giving them a chance calmed him immeasurably. He lay there, letting her feminine scent wrap around him, relishing his body’s response to having her in his bed.
“I know you’re awake,” she whispered against his ear, making him smile. “I shared a room with my sister for seventeen years. I know when someone’s being a big faker.
“Guilty. I think I’m afraid to turn around and see what you look like in my bed. The image will haunt me when I leave for work this afternoon.”
Her laugh sounded muffled among the pillows. “But if you don’t turn around, you won’t see the sexy lingerie I wore just for you.”
Derek flipped over with such speed, Ginger squealed and threw up her hands. Kneeling over her, he yanked down the covers and narrowed his eyes at her oversize sweatshirt and leggings. “Oh, you’ll pay for that.”
Her smile slipped a little. “I’ve just been so cold since last night. It’s like I can’t warm up.”
He’d been right to avoid looking at her. Seeing Ginger snuggled in his bed, so casually dressed with her hair fanning out onto his pillow, Derek’s heart wedged itself in his throat. She had to be the most goddamn beautiful thing on the planet, even sleep-deprived as she appeared.
“Come here. Let’s get you warm.”
He lay back down alongside Ginger, sliding an arm underneath her so she could rest her head on his shoulder. She hesitated only a moment before tucking her head under his chin and cuddling into the warmth of his bare chest.
“Is the wounded officer okay?”
“Yes, moved out of ICU around four-thirty this morning.”
“Good.” She blew out a breath. “I guess I made kind of a scene.”
Derek sighed. “I don’t think any of them particularly minded the interruption. While we’re on the subject, could you try and pay a little closer attention to your attire in public? I’d barely recovered from those firemen seeing you in that wet T-shirt the night your apartment flooded. Now the entire homicide division knows what you wear to bed.”
“Actually, I don’t wear anything to bed. I fell asleep last night before I could get undressed.” Ginger laughed when Derek groaned, pulling tighter against him. “How can you be so jealous of other men, Derek, when you know there’s only been you?”
“Baby, I’m jealous of men who haven’t even seen you yet.”
She smirked. “I could tell you there’s nothing to worry about, but I think I’d be wasting my breath.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Leaning up to kiss his lips gently, Ginger obeyed, whispered the reassurance to him twice. When she tried to deepen the kiss, Derek pulled back.
“Don’t try to distract me. We have too much to discuss. Including why you were so dressed up yesterday afternoon.”
Ginger flopped back onto the pillow. “Oh, that.” He held on to his impatience while she fidgeted with the bedspread nervously. “I had lunch with a man who owns a furniture store in Wicker Park. I bought some antique chairs there last week and we got to talking about my designs. He asked to see pictures, so we met for lunch and I showed him some.”
“And?”
“And he wants to sell them in his shop.”
She still wouldn’t look at him, so he grasped her chin and turned her until their eyes met. “Ginger, that’s great. You weren’t going to say anything?”
“Not unless they sold.”
“They’ll sell,” he said with confidence.
“Well, let’s hope so. I called Sensation yesterday and quit.”
He tried to keep the sweeping relief from his face. “You’re full of surprises this morning. Is there a particular reason?”
She ran the arch of her foot along his calf. “Besides my boyfriend showing up and raising hell? Dragging me out in the middle of my shift?”
“Say that again.”
“Which part?”
“The part where you call me your boyfriend with that accent that makes me crazy.”
“I’ll say it again if you kiss me.”
He smiled and shook his head. “All in good time, sweetheart.”
“If you insist,” she sighed. “But if this is going to be a long conversation, I’m going to get comfortable.”
She grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and peeled it over her head to reveal a cropped pink tank top that bared just a hint of her smooth stomach. Then she stretched out like a cat right in front of him.
Derek’s fingers dug into the comforter to prevent himself from reaching for her. He’d sworn to himself they would talk this morning. Ginger counted on sex as a means to distract him. And, God, watching her slide around on his sheets, he came damn close to forgetting his resolve. But if he gave in every time, they would never move forward. She probably didn’t even realize the extent to which she used her sensuality to avoid having difficult conversations.
Last night had been a turning point, but despite the progress they’d made at the hospital, he’d need to walk a fine line with Ginger. He needed her trust.
Derek dragged his gaze away from her body. “Tell me why you really quit.”
Her eyes shot to his in surprise, then glanced away. “Honestly? I’d called security ten minutes earlier about that guy who grabbed me. They didn’t take me seriously. If you hadn’t shown up…” she trailed off, oblivious to his mounting anger. “You don’t know a lot about where I came from. I worked in a place called Bobby’s Hideaway for four years before I left Nashville. The kind of thing you saw that night happened frequently there. When I left Nashville, I left that behind. I don’t want to feel unsafe at my job anymore.”
Fury gripped him by the neck. For the girl she’d been and the woman she’d become. He’d die before he let her go through anything resembling her past life again.