The Mighty Quinns: Rourke by Kate Hoffmann

elicited.
    “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. Maybe another night like last night?”
    “You don’t have to trade for that. I like to do that free,” she said.
    He drew back and looked down at her. “Yeah?”
    “Yeah,” she said. “Of course, that does have to do with your considerable skill in the sack.”
    “I am good, aren’t I?”
    “Yes, you are very good.”
    Rourke kissed her again. “You bring out the best in me.” He nuzzled her neck, then stepped away. “I need to finish the shingling,” he explained. “And then I’m going to buy some insulation and install it in the attic. The house would be much warmer if it were insulated better.”
    “No, that’s too much,” she said. “I can’t afford that.”
    “Don’t worry about it. You can give me a painting.” He strolled down the front steps, grinning to himself.
    Annie frowned. She’d always paid her own way and taken great pride in the fact that she owed no one. This didn’t feel right. He’d said otherwise, but did he really expect that she’d repay him in the bedroom? Was that what this was about?
    “No!” she called as he started to climb the ladder.
    Rourke paused. “What?”
    “No,” Annie repeated. “To the insulation. No insulation. I can’t afford it.”
    “You can’t not afford it. It will save money on the firewood you use. And while I’m at it, I should put all new windows in the cottage. They’re so leaky that there’s no way to keep that room warm.”
    “It’s fine the way it is,” Annie insisted. “Please, just fix the roof and that’s all.” She turned and walked back into the cottage, closing the door behind her.
    But Rourke wasn’t about to let the subject rest. A few seconds later he walked inside, his expression tense, his gaze dark. “Why don’t we just have this out right now, okay?”
    “I told you what I wanted. There’s nothing to talk about.”
    “Is it that you don’t think you deserve for people to do nice things for you? Or are you just so controlling that you can’t accept any help at all? Because, personally, I’d like to know so I don’t keep running into these brick walls when I’m with you.”
    “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, or fix my roof, or buy insulation for my attic. I’m fine all on my own.”
    Rourke cursed beneath his breath. “Yes, I’m aware of that. You’ve proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. But that doesn’t mean you can’t graciously accept help when it’s offered.”
    “I don’t need charity.”
    “This isn’t charity,” he retorted.
    Annie felt her emotions surge and she fought against the tears that threatened. Didn’t he understand how difficult this was for her? She’d been alone for so long, suspicious of everyone around her. It wasn’t easy to trust anyone, not even the man she’d invited into her bed.
    “I don’t have to explain myself,” she muttered.
    “No, you don’t. But maybe you might like to. Annie, we can’t move forward if you don’t tell me what you’re really feeling. This doesn’t have anything to do with the damn insulation. Tell me why this bothers you.”
    She crossed the room to her favorite chair and sat down, pulling the blanket more tightly around her body, as if it might offer a shield against his affection. Why not tell him? He’d be gone soon enough and it wouldn’t make a difference once he was.
    “It’s—it’s really difficult for me to trust people.”
    “I know that,” he said.
    “And because I couldn’t trust people when I was younger, because I shut everyone out, I never really learned to read the signs.”
    “What signs?”
    “When someone is lying to me or when his or her motives might not be good.” Annie drew a ragged breath. Now that she’d started, she didn’t want to stop. Why not tell him everything? “When I was in high school, a boy invited me to the winter formal. He was kind of a quiet boy, not very popular at school. But he seemed nice and I really