“You’re sure we have to do this,” he said.
“If the point of this whole exercise is to look like we’ve fallen for each other fast and hard, then yes.” With a clatter, the bottle of foundation slipped from her fingers into the sink but didn’t break. She muttered a curse, swiped her nose and chin with the makeup sponge, then said, “I have dinner with my parents every Monday night. We’re dating, you work at my bar and have Mondays off, therefore you’d be coming over too. It will look strange if I miss it.”
“Why Mondays?”
“Dad works Sundays, and between services, study groups, and appointments, he usually works all day. He takes Mondays as his Sabbath and the evenings were family time. I’m ready.”
She emerged from the bathroom wearing a fitted pink blouse with short sleeves and about thirty pearly pink buttons running from the upright collar to the hem that hit just above her hip bone, an A line skirt the color of a green olive, and flat brown sandals. She’d straightened her hair, parted it on the side, tucked behind her ears, and she wore just a touch of makeup, foundation, mascara, lip gloss. He wore khakis and an Oxford, and standing in the hallway, looking at him, she had a disorienting moment where the world tilted just enough to leave her a little unsteady.
It was like the surface of reality cracked open for just a moment and a timeless truth flashed in the rip in the space-time continuum. Something she couldn’t identify glinted in his hazel eyes.
“What?” she asked, as she smoothed her skirt over her hip bones. “Did I spill foundation?”
“Huh? No. You look nice,” he said.
She cocked her head and considered him. “I don’t look like we were in bed together thirty minutes ago, right?”
“No,” he said seriously. “You don’t look like you’ve ever thought about going to bed with a man.”
“Perfect for family night,” she said, and started down the hallway, only to come up short when he didn’t move. In her flat-heeled sandals she had to look up into his eyes.
“Your brother will be there,” he said.
“Caleb comes and goes as he pleases,” she said noncommittally. “Depending on how busy he is at work, he’s there for the whole meal, or just dessert, or not at all.” When he didn’t respond, she stepped past him to rummage through her purse and come up with her sunglasses. “Come on, pokey. We’re going to be late.”
He locked the front door and followed her down the ramp. Beside his Jeep she raised an eyebrow at him. “You put the top on?”
“We may be flaunting this … this … all over the East Side, but I’m not driving you around in an open vehicle two days after someone tried to kill you,” he said as he unlocked her door.
His hesitation, neatly avoided, summed up their current problem. What exactly was this besides a mirage?
She recoiled as hot air rolled out of the open door. “The AC works, right? It’s been over a hundred degrees for three weeks straight.”
“Yup.” He braced a hip on the seat, started the Jeep, and turned on the air conditioning, then got back out and closed the door.
She shut her door and waited for the AC to work, watching him across the black hood as she did. “What would you call this if you were working with another cop?” she asked.
Hands on hips, he scanned the street, then the yard. “A flagrant violation of departmental rules governing conduct between officers.”
Between the sex and the sense of humor, it was getting harder and harder to stop the shift from deceptive asshole to okay guy. “So you and Sorenson…?”
“Never.”
“Why not? She’s very pretty. She’s smart, which I think you like, and you work well together.”
He cut her a look across the hood of the Jeep, already hot to the touch. “I like smart. Her father, mother, and grandfather were all LPD. I’ve learned more in the year I’ve worked with her than most detectives learn in a career. If I hit on her, which, for the record, I’ve never considered, I’d be dead to her. I’m not going to screw up a good working relationship by treating her like anything other than a law enforcement professional.” He opened the door. “It’s cooled down. Get in.”
She buckled up and slipped on her sunglasses while he reversed out of the driveway. “So what would you call this, when people work as a team on something?” Halfway down the shady street they passed a nondescript sedan. Eve recognized the big, scary-looking cop, McCormick, in the driver’s seat. “Was that…?”
“Surveillance to make sure no one’s tracked you down through me.”