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“I know.”
She’d been staring out the window at the house he’d pointed out as belonging to Brenda, but turned to look at him as she said, “But if I’d ever felt around anyone else like I felt last night when you kissed me, I might have.”
Her gaze held concern. Doubt. Maybe even a hint of fear.
Everything going on... It had to be getting to her.
“You did great with Muriel,” he said, figuring that was where her most recent train of thought had come from. And knowing that he needed to steer them away from what had happened outside her bedroom door. “I figured it might help, having you there, but it went better than I’d expected. She was on the defensive with us. But you made her feel understood. You got her to relate to you, to feel as though she wasn’t alone...having a husband doing things behind your back of which you were unaware. The way you told her that it was a matter of having faith that made you see what you saw and miss what you didn’t see, you need to remember that. It was so right.” He wasn’t usually so verbose, but the words kept coming. He had to keep talking.
To keep her from going in any deeper.
Suddenly, he didn’t just have to protect her from a killer somewhere outside the car. He had to protect her from a “them” that was like a time bomb ready to explode right there inside the vehicle in which they sat.
He pointed out how Muriel Bowe had barely looked at him and Troy. About how her tone of voice had changed when she’d been talking to Everleigh. Commented on the exact moment that Everleigh had taken over the interview. Mentioned that he’d noticed even his cousin had taken a step back and let Everleigh run the show.
Everything he said was true. He was in overkill mode, though.
And when he stopped, she sat silently, not commenting at all on her very successful interview skills. He wanted to tell her that her level of compassion for others was unusual...and captivating. Shied completely away from that dangerous territory. Too personal.
Figured she should know that her gentleness was a silent strength, far more powerful than loudmouthed bossiness. Again, that was not professional and case-based conversation.
About thirty seconds after he fell silent, she sighed. And said, “Are you ready to talk about it yet?”
“Talk about what?”
“We need to talk about that kiss, Clarke. It’s going to blow up on us if we don’t.”
Damn. She was the complete package. Couldn’t he catch a break anyplace?
“Why do women always want to talk about things?” he grumbled. Feeling a bit desperate as he sought to keep them from sinking in the quicksand into which they’d already stepped.
“I can’t speak for all women, nor do I think it’s fair to generalize me into a group based on my gender.”
He knew she was right, nor was he going to win this one. Failure was written all over it.
He glanced at her but didn’t linger. Not just because he’d get turned on if he did, but because he had to keep his gaze all around them. He wasn’t going to screw up the job, too.
Everleigh was not going to get hurt.
Not physically.
And that was all he’d been asked to do—keep her body safe.
“Do you want me to apologize?” he asked, with a bit of a tone, knowing he was being unfair. And yet...if he pissed her off...anger could defuse the situation. At least in the moment.
If nothing else, it might help them feel better to expel some of the tension that was building between them.
“Do you want me to?” She had an answer for everything now?
He glanced over at her again. And then turned his head away. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” He didn’t have the answers. Clearly.
“I don’t know, either. I just think we need to quit pretending it didn’t happen. It’s making my stomach hurt.”
“The fact that it happened? Or ignoring that it did?”
“I don’t know. Probably both.”
“I find you incredibly attractive,” he told her. Not wanting her in pain. “I’ve never known a woman like you. And I realize that us starting anything could only end in disaster. So, I’m choosing to try to keep my mind off sex and on the case.”
