“You’d be right on that count.” Disgust slimed every word. Dropping the mask, she was his Frankie again. “I guess I’m not all that honest.”

Her lying was for a friend. That changed things. As for her emotions… “Who are you pretending to be when you’re role-playing?”

She nodded. “In hostile meetings at work, I’m pretending to be Mama—who can be a real ice queen. For the PZs, I acted like one of my younger cousins who just turned sixteen.”

Yes, that would get Nabera’s attention.

Her nose wrinkled. “Never again.”

Bull smiled slightly. She was as transparent as he’d thought. When she pretended to be someone else, her eyes changed and grew distant. Because it wasn’t her.

He squeezed her fingers. “Have you ever assumed a role with me?”

“No.” She frowned. “Not a role. When we met, I wanted to slap your face because I thought you were a total bastardo—and I hated that I noticed how sexy you were. I didn’t want you to see that I was attracted to you.”

Yet she hadn’t been able to hide it completely. The spark had been there, beneath the simmering anger in her gaze.

He leaned forward and took her lips in a slow, soft kiss. “Thank you for the honesty and the explanation.”

Her eyes gleamed with tears, and she swallowed.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I just…I hate that I can’t tell you everything and I didn’t think you’d forgive me and that you’d hate me and I couldn’t stand that.” A tear ran down her face.

Hell, she was going to smash his heart into little bits.

Unable to help himself, he plucked her from her chair and moved to the double Adirondack chair so he could have her in his lap and cuddle. “We’re good. I’m not angry. Or upset.”

Her breathing held tiny sobs as she tried to keep from crying.

Here was the downside of a woman who didn’t hide her emotions. There would be tears.

Far better than lies.

So, he held her, enjoying how she fit on his lap, how she was small enough that their heads were almost even, and he could rub his cheek against her damp one.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Forgiven.” He kissed her again, trying to convey how he felt. That she was cared-for, safe, wanted.

When she relaxed, he shifted her so she could sit beside him, then curled her fingers around a glass of wine. In his shirt and the fuzzy socks, she was fucking adorable.

Catching his smile, she glanced down at herself and smiled ruefully. “Nothing like being braless and scruffy.

“I was just thinking how beautiful you are, no matter what you go through.”