Page 51 of The Fire Line

“Shit.”

He stepped back, and Tessa’s hand fell away immediately. For a second, she only looked at him, breathing a little harder than before.

“You okay?”

“Yup.”

Poor lie, even by his standards.

Harris fastened the button she had opened and turned toward the window. Neon from the vacancy sign laid a dull red bar across the curtain. The air conditioner rattled hard enough to suggest it might shake loose from the wall.

“Long day,” he said.

“Okay.”

She waited only a moment. Tessa knew the difference between Harris being quiet because he had nothing to say and Harris being quiet because there was something he refused to say.

“We don’t have to do this.”

Relief came fast enough to embarrass him, not because he did not want her—his body had made that clear—but because wanting her had done nothing to remove Navarro.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t.”

“I drove you over here.”

“You didn’t kidnap me. Stop standing there like you owe me a settlement.”

A breath of laughter escaped him despite everything.

Tessa sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on one boot. She did not invite him to sit beside her or promise not to judge whatever he said. She seemed to have decided the evening was over and saw no benefit in making the end ceremonial.

The air conditioner and the muted television next door handled the silence.

“You back with Claire?” she asked.

“No.”

That answer came cleanly.

“Somebody else?”

“No.”

Less cleanly.

Her hands paused at the laces. Harris heard the difference.

So did she.

“There isn’t,” he said.

“Okay.”

She tied the boot, leaving the lie technically possible. Harris disliked how grateful he was that she did not test it.

“I’ll pay for the room.”