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“Not at you,” she assured. “You live in the Northwest and Bigfoot is a big thing here…if you’ll forgive the sort-of pun.”
“In my case I’m fascinated that modern people still persist in believing without real scientific evidence.”
“So you don’t actually believe in Sasquatch yourself, it’s more about his followers?”
“I’m keeping an open mind. They discover new species every day, so anything is possible.”
Like Nicole’s earlier suspicion that Jordan had latent knightly impulses, his interest in Sasquatch gave her an unusual glimpse into his psyche. On the other hand, she wasn’t entirely certain he was telling the truth; he might be teasing her.
“Do you include the yeti in your research?” she inquired.
He started the car. “I’ve concentrated on local legends.”
“But the yeti could be Bigfoot’s cousin. You might be ignoring a branch of the family.”
“There’s a thought. If the Bigfoot info runs dry, perhaps I’ll head to the Himalayas and check on yeti references. Or maybe you could do that for me.”
“Hey, I’m not your leg man. I’ll find my own obsession.”
“I’m not obsessed,” he complained in a light tone. “I just enjoy being well-informed on the subject.”
“Do you have a Bigfoot lamp hidden in your closet?” she inquired, hoping to keep up the relaxed conversation until they ended the evening. Anything was better than the yearning to invite him home to spend the night.
“Nope, I’m an information man. But I confess to having Harry and the Hendersons on Blu-ray.”
His embarrassed smile convinced her he was telling the truth about his hobby. The film, however sweet, was hardly in the top ten best-known flicks.
“I like that movie, too, especially Harry’s distress when he sees the husband helping his wife into a hot tub.”
“Be careful,” Jordan warned, “it’s only a small leap from where you are to tracking down old folk tales and newspapers on microfilm.”
Nicole turned toward him. “That sounds cool.”
“It’s amazing to tread through the old reports, quite apart from anything related to Sasquatch.”
The skeptical mask that Jordan habitually wore seemed absent, but it dropped back into place as he parked next to her sedan in the agency parking lot.
“Thank you. This was an informative afternoon for the PostModern article,” he said politely.
“How so?”
“I shouldn’t say. I’m still putting my impressions together.”
He was definitely back to his normal, closed-in self. Illogically, she was annoyed.
“The afternoon was quite informative for me, as well,” she told him crisply.
“In what way?”
“I’m still putting my impressions together.”
“How amusing, to throw my words back at me.”
“Turnabout is fair play. In a nanosecond you went from pleasantly discussing hobbies to being an aloof interviewer.”
“You’re the one who didn’t want to answer interview questions while we were driving. This wasn’t a date.”
Nicole stared in astonishment. “Thank you so much for the information. Just think, if you hadn’t said anything I would have gone home to my little diary with the heart-shaped lock and written about the journalist who wined and dined me this evening. A journalist who claims he isn’t cynical or biased, but keeps going out of his way to show that he is.”
Jordan had the grace to look abashed. “I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t in the mood to be forgiving. “I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone. I’ve learned my lesson when it comes to romance and if I ever change my mind, I certainly won’t want a guy who’s pursuing a tidy, controlled bachelor life. So, whatever is going on inside your suspicious brain, it’s your problem, not mine.”
Getting out, she slammed the door and got into her own car, fuming. Apparently Jordan was the sort of person who only recognized a line that shouldn’t be crossed when he was looking back at it. Everyone made mistakes and she wasn’t immune to them herself, but he’d leaped over boundaries more than once, including the other night when he’d kissed her. She might have given him a friendly hug, but it hadn’t been an invitation for more. And she was quite certain he knew that.
