Behind His Walls Read online

  “No, I feel fine. My body just hates me this morning. I think it blames me for the flu.”

  “Do you want something to eat? Maybe toast?”

  “No, thanks. I’m not really hungry. I just need my keys. I noticed those are not in my bag.”

  “Let’s just hang out together today. I have nothing planned, and we already established last night that you have nothing planned.”

  “Joseph, I just want to go home to my bed and sleep all weekend.”

  “Stay in my bed.” I closed my eyes and cleared my throat. It was my turn to blush. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

  “Of course, you didn’t.”

  I looked at her and wondered what that tone meant.

  “You’re a gentleman. You wouldn’t just offer a weekend of lust out of the blue. Your offer is quite tempting, because I love your bed, but I really do need to get home.” She held her hand out for her keys.

  “No.”

  “Joseph—”

  “No, Lindsey! I had a very interesting conversation with the detective heading your case when I went to pick up your things. Imagine my surprise when I showed up unannounced at your apartment and was greeted by your new friends. It’s a good thing they knew me from the office because I could be sitting in an interrogation room right now.”

  She offered no response other than to look away.

  “There is an escaped convict out there, which you helped put away. He will come for you, and I will not allow you to go home and wait for him. I’ve already cleared it with the police. You’re staying with me.”

  “Again with the bossing! I am leaving Joseph, whether you give me my keys or I call a cab.”

  “How are you going to get inside your home if I have your keys?”

  “I’ll go to my mother’s.”

  “You don’t want to spend time with me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “If this was about spending time with you, I wouldn’t hesitate. However, this is about you trying to take control of a situation that I have under control already.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. I didn’t want her to leave, but it seemed she was hell-bent on going. I didn’t want her to leave angry. I reached into my pocket and pulled out her keys. When she held out her hand, I placed the keys in it, but held on. Her eyes met mine.

  “I’m worried, Lindsey. He’s threatened you from behind bars. There’s no telling what he’ll do now that he’s out. Will you please stay with me?”

  She didn’t pull her hand back, but she did look down. “I don’t need protection. I can handle this myself.”

  “How about a friend? Do you need a friend, Lindsey? Is that why you asked me how I viewed you last night? Did you want to know if you could confide in me?”

  Her shoulders sagged, and her face tightened as if she were fighting back tears. I held her hand as I walked around the counter and pulled her close when I got near. She was too strong and stubborn to admit she was scared. I wanted to make her see she didn’t need to hide anything from me.

  “I’m your friend, Lindsey,” I whispered as I held her. “Talk to me.”

  She wrapped her arms around my neck. I held her close and rubbed her back. I had questions, but I needed to allow her the space to talk. It had to be her decision to let me in. Until she was willing to do that, I’d do what I could to help her and keep her safe.

  “I’m kind of hungry.”

  Apparently, she wasn’t ready. I smiled anyway. Hunger was still a good sign, and it meant she’d stay a little longer, if only to eat. I squeezed her once and let her go.

  “What would you like?”

  “Something light, but I’ve got stuff at home.”

  I opened the refrigerator door and ignored her comment about going home. “I’ve got fruit, soup, or I could make some toast. I have some very nice jam if you’d like to try that.”

  She came up next to me and looked into the refrigerator for herself. I turned my head and looked at her. The thought of anything bad happening to her or worse—losing her completely—made me look at her in a different light. I’d always thought of her as a friend and someone I’d like to get to know more, but with a lunatic out there carrying a knife with her name on it, it reminded me that I didn’t have all the time in the world.

  I wasn’t even sure I wanted to share the office space when she proposed the idea. It was a great business decision, but it was starting to have an effect on more than just business. I hadn’t done anything outside of the practice for so long, I was afraid I’d have no idea how to do anything else.

  “What, Joseph?” Her voice brought me out of my thoughts, but I didn’t stop looking at her. She turned to me. “What are you looking at?”

  “You.”

  “What?” She backed up a little and looked herself over. “Do I have something on me?”

  “No. I like the weekend you.”

  She blushed and touched her hair. “Well, I figured I didn’t need to impress anyone here. Maybe I should try since you definitely have seen me at my worst.” Her nervous laugh was cute, but it reminded me that she was in the middle of a personal crisis and probably didn’t want to have to worry about another man.

  “You’ve already impressed me, Lindsey.” I turned back to the refrigerator. “Now, what do you want to eat?”

  “I’ll take some fruit, please.”

  I sat on the stool at the island and watched Joseph clean the fruit I’d asked for. I wanted to stay and get to know him. I’d wanted that for so long. It was just that I feared it was for the wrong reasons. Once Austin Harris was caught, we’d go back to business as usual. I wasn’t sure if I could take that.

  It was reassuring to know Joseph wanted to keep me safe, but he would’ve treated anyone like that. If it had been Elizabeth in the same situation, she would be the one to sit on his barstool waiting to taste his fruit. I scoffed.

  Joseph turned to look at me. “You don’t like blueberries?”

  “What?” I looked at the berries in his hands and shook my head. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t about the blueberries. They look great.”

  His eyes looked to the side as if he were trying to understand what the scoff was about. I’d never tell him that I was envious of a thought. It wasn’t that it was impossible. As an attractive man, I was sure Joseph had his pick of women. Why he chose to be single was something I often wondered. I tilted my head to the side and smiled. If he was going to try to keep me here, maybe I should make it a little uncomfortable for him.

  “Why didn’t you ever marry?”

  He hesitated before he set the plate in front of me. “I’ve been busy building the practice, so there wasn’t much time for dating.”

  “I can understand that, but what about now? Why aren’t you dating anyone?” Oh, God. Maybe he was dating someone, and I just didn’t know it.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. I noticed it was a habit he did when he was nervous or frustrated. “I guess I still put the practice first. Juice?”

  “Water, please.” I took my time eating the fruit he provided. It was more about buying time to think of the next question than anything.

  Being a psychologist should have prepared me to ask these questions. It was what I was trained to do. I’d just never had so much riding on the answers before. I needed to push through and figure out how to get the answers I needed so I could move on with my life.

  “When’s the last time you went on a date?”

  “Uh, well.” He picked up the rag and started scrubbing the clean counter again. “I’m not really sure.”

  “It’s been that long?” I shouldn’t have sounded so surprised. It made it sound as if I was judging him, but I wasn’t. I just couldn’t believe that a man could go without any female companionship for long periods of time.

  He tossed the rag into the sink. “When’s the last time you went on a date?”

  I wanted to ask if our movie date last month counted, but I didn’t. “It’s been a couple of months.”


  He leaned his elbows onto the counter and looked at me. “Why?”

  Because I started having the hots for the guy I share an office with. I cleared my throat and took a drink. “Things change.”

  He gave me a puzzled look and then shook his head. “I know you’re still grieving your father, but I thought you’d moved past this stage.”

  I shook my head. “Stage?”

  “Guilt. You shouldn’t feel guilty for moving on with your life. Things change every day, but you can’t let it control you.”

  “What’s controlling you, Joseph? Why aren’t you dating?”

  “I guess I’m still more concerned with the practice than my personal life.”

  I decided to change the subject. Questions would still be asked, but it wouldn’t be about his personal life—at least, not for now. I’d get back to it.

  “What made you decide to go into psychology?”

  “I wanted to help people.”

  “Boring.”

  His startled look made me laugh. “You think helping people is boring and funny?”

  “No, your look was funny. Your answer was boring. There are endless jobs where you could’ve helped people. Why did you choose psychology?”

  Something shifted in his eyes. A sadness, maybe. Whatever it was didn’t last long. He still didn’t answer the question and turned back to the sink.

  I figured if I was asking, I could at least share my answer. “Minds fascinate me.”

  He turned and looked at me. “Is that so?” He smiled.

  “Yes. They do. The thought process is completely different in everyone. Take a look at us.”

  “Us?” He was amused as he leaned his backside against the sink, crossing his arms. “What about us?”

  “I’m positive we each would help the same client. Only, we would do it in very different ways because we would think differently on what the issue was and how to help them.”

  “We should test this theory.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Are you mocking me?”

  “Not at all. I just think we should test it to see if you’re right.”

  “I’m not about to put someone innocent through our little game.”

  “I’m not, either. We could do it after hours or discuss it with a professor friend of mine to see if he would be interested in loaning a psychology class to this experiment. It might teach them something.”

  I smiled. “It would be interesting, but I’m not sure how it would really work.”

  “Okay. If you ever want to try it, the offer stands.”

  “Are you making this into some sort of challenge?”

  He shrugged.

  “You are! I said we would both help the client. I never even hinted that I would be better than you. I simply stated we would do it differently because we think differently.”

  “Uh-huh.” He nodded.

  The gloves had officially come off with the questions. “So, your last serious girlfriend was before college then?”

  His eyes met mine. “Why the sudden fascination with my dating life?”

  “I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re trying to get me to kick you out.”

  I gasped. “Nothing of the sort!” I smiled. “Is it working?”

  “No. Ask as many questions as you want.” He put his hands onto the counter and leaned into my face. “You’re stuck with me.”

  We both smiled and looked into each other’s eyes. We held each other’s gaze for a little bit, but our smiles faded as something else took over. I wanted to grab his face and kiss him. I just didn’t have the guts to do it yet.

  He cleared his throat and stepped back. “What’s your next question?”

  “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”

  “Ah, that’s an easy one. No.”

  “Even if it means the most embarrassing questions, and you’ll be forced to answer?”

  The smirk he wore made me second guess myself. I almost took it back, but he beat me to it. “Let’s go to the living room where it’s more comfortable. I can’t wait to hear what you think will embarrass me.”

  “Fine.” I held my head up and walked past him to the living room. If he thought he was going to win this game, he was wrong. I’d be back to my place, in my own bed, in no time.

  He grabbed my arm and turned me to him, pulling me to his chest. “But you have to answer everything I ask you, too.”

  I swallowed. “No problem.”

  He looked over my face and down to my lips while I was still pressed against his chest. “We’ll see about that.”

  He walked past me, leaving me wondering what the look was for and what he meant. I touched my lips he seemed to be fascinated by and smiled. Could it be that I was starting to get to him, too?

  Joseph called from the other room, “Having second thoughts?”

  My smile grew, and I grabbed my water. “Not on your life.” I walked to the living room. “Just grabbing the water.”

  He motioned toward me. “Ladies first.”

  I had several inappropriate and immature questions in mind, but I thought I’d take it slow for him. “Boxers or briefs?”

  He smiled. “Depends on the mood and the outfit.”

  “That isn’t an answer. Which do you prefer?”

  “They each have benefits, but I feel more secure in briefs.”

  I gave him a puzzled look. “More secure?”

  “Boxers are a little too freeing. In a casual environment, I don’t mind the looseness of the clothing. When I’m working, I prefer to make sure everything stays in its place.”

  I smiled. I was going to have fun with one of my questions. “Okay. You’re turn.”

  “Same question.”

  “I prefer men in briefs. I have to use my imagination too much in boxers. I’d rather see what you’re packing.”

  He burst out with laughter I’d never heard him have before and started shaking his head. “I meant for you.”

  “I know what you meant, but this answer was more fun.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. It was.” He cleared his throat. “However, when I was getting your clothes, I noticed a few different types of underwear. What do you prefer?”

  “Boy shorts. The thongs are only for those outfits where one shouldn’t have a panty line.”

  “Makes sense.” He reached for his glass of water.

  I was going to ease into it, but I decided to go for it. “How big is your penis?”

  To his credit, he didn’t spit out his water or have much of a reaction at all—except to drink faster. He set the glass back down and sat back, placing his arm across the back of the sofa. “Coming out with the big guns so early, huh?”

  I made a point to look at his crotch and back up to his eyes. Lexi sensed the tension—if you want to call it that—and jumped up onto my lap. “You tell me if it’s a big gun or not.”

  “No one has complained yet.”

  “I’m sure you only date polite women.”

  “Are you insinuating that I have a small penis?”

  I smiled. “Not at all. I’m just saying I can’t go by that alone.” I tilted my head to the side. “Fine. When’s the last time you went on a real date where the woman didn’t complain?”

  “Are you asking when the last time I had sex?”

  “I suppose I am. It isn’t good for your prostate to keep it all built up. You need to let it go and often.”

  “I’m losing at this game, and I don’t like to lose.”

  “Yes, you are losing, but you can quickly turn that around by answering the questions. Or I could just go home and leave you to your nice, peaceful, boring weekend.” I smiled.

  He sat up quickly and put a hand on the arm of the sofa I was resting on and the other hand on the back of the sofa, pinning me in. “You could wrap both of your hands around my penis and still have some left over to put in your pretty little mouth. The last time I had sex was six month
s ago, but don’t worry, I’m aware of my prostate health and do let it go . . . often.” He looked at my lips, down my neck, and back up to my eyes before sitting back on his side of the sofa.

  I clapped a slow, steady clap. “Well done, but your intimidation tactic didn’t work. Your next question.”

  “I get two.” He waited until I nodded. “When’s the last time you ‘let it go?’”

  “I haven’t had sex since before my father died, so I’d say about six months, as well. If you’re asking when I last masturbated, you’re showerhead seduced me.”

  He sat up and looked up to his bedroom before turning around and looking at me. I think he was trying to decide whether or not to believe me. Then he laughed. “That sexy bastard gets all the women.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “All the women?”

  “You’re not the first to molest my showerhead.”

  As long as I’m the last. I cleared my throat. “What’s your next question?”

  He put his finger on his chin and looked to be in thought. “I have two in mind, so I’m trying to decide which one is more important.”

  “Oh?”

  “The first is whether or not you’re trying to get me to kick you out, or if you really are interested in my sexual heath and penis size.”

  “What’s the other question?”

  “If your breasts are real.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I can see the struggle for you. Finding out if breasts are real is very important.” I couldn’t stop laughing until I looked at the heat in his eyes. They weren’t looking at me. Well, not my eyes.

  I decided to be as bold as he was and took the moment he was concentrated on my breasts to move to his lap. I straddled him and placed my hands on the sides of his face. “There’s one way to find out.”

  He took my wrists and removed my hands from him. “Lindsey, I—”

  I started to get up, but was pulled back down. “If you don’t want me, Joseph, it’s fine.”

  His voice was gruff, and his fingers were digging into my hips. “Wanting you isn’t the problem.”

  I believed him. I held his face again and put mine close to his. “Then tell me what the problem is. I want you, too.”

  When he finally looked into my eyes, there was a fear there I’d never seen before. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head a little. I didn’t understand where the fear had come from. What was he afraid of?