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Um. That wasn’t a deal she could pass up. “Fine. But only because you’re so desperate to share.” She preferred to go straight to the source, anyway, rather than meeting with the friend. Which meant, yes, she would have a face-to-face with Robby Waynes. Tomorrow. “I’m sure Rolex is eager to draw your blood.”
He gave her a wry smile. “Perfect. I’ve been looking forward to receiving my next claw shaped scar.”
After she’d gathered her things, he led her toward the door. She cast a glance at Fiona and got a hearty thumbs up. Beau nodded, his expression revealing nothing.
“Hold up, Jane,” Tony Miller called, striding over. He focused on Conrad. “Where are you taking my client, agent?”
He may be cheap and compromised as heck, but Jane had to admire his go-to attitude.
“She’s no longer a person of interest.” Conrad slid his gaze to her and arched a brow. “You can fire him if you’d like.”
Tony’s jaw dropped. “I got her off the suspects list?” He slapped his thigh and smirked up at the ceiling, saying, “Can’t win a case even if I nail the judge, Emma? Wrong again, baby girl.” He turned his attention to Jane and grew serious once more. “I’ll be sending you a bill.”
“Don’t forget to include my discount.” Really, she should send him a bill. She’d basically gotten herself off that suspect list, improving his professional reputation.
“I won’t. I won’t forget our consultation tonight either,” he said and hurried on before she could blast him with protests. Consultation? “I’m just glad Hightower saw things my way.” He looked to Conrad, almost hopeful. “She didn’t, uh, mention me, did she?”
“No,” Conrad replied. “She didn’t.”
A line formed between Jane’s brows. “Why would she?” Did he have a crush on the agent? Or was he up to something?
Tony bowed up as if she’d slapped him and spread his arms wide. “Why would she? Because she couldn’t get enough of ole Tony Miller. She kept eating me up with her eyes. That’s why.” All growly and snarly, he pivoted and aimed for the bar.
“Jane, the innocent ego shredder,” Conrad muttered, ushering her toward the exit.
They bypassed the greeting table where the Berdize sisters waited. “Hey, where are you going, Jane?” Charlotte asked as they approached. “You can’t date him. He didn’t purchase a ticket.”
With his free hand, he opened one side of his suit jacket, flashing his badge. “I’ve placed Miss Ladling under citizen’s arrest.”
The siblings gaped, and Jane bit her tongue to silence a ridiculous giggle. No doubt the duo would live off this new bit of gossip for days.
Audrey slapped Charlotte’s shoulder. “I told you we shouldn’t welcome murder suspects.”
“What’d she do?” Charlotte demanded of Conrad, leaning forward.
“She disturbed my peace.”
Jane laughed as he maneuvered her through the inn’s lobby and past the ornate wooden doors that were original to the estate. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the darkening sky with streaks of pinks and golds.
What a great day this had turned out to be. Leads and direction and romance, oh my.
They reached the crowded parking lot; her vehicle wasn’t difficult to identify. The only hearse in the vicinity. Conrad propelled her to the passenger side and attempted to claim the keys, but she kept them out of his reach and shook her head.
“My car. I drive. Where’s your sedan, anyway?” Did he not get to use the company transportation while on vacation?
“I’ll pick it up in the morning.”
Her grip tightened on her purse. Did he plan to sleep at her house? He’d said he knew the rules, but did he really? New panic flared. Thanks to her, they hadn’t discussed their maybe-maybe not relationship expectations yet. Meaning, he hadn’t agreed to her non-negotiable terms: totally casual but utterly exclusive, with no mentions of love allowed. But, like almost everyone else, he probably needed those mentions.
Heck, he might be getting them from others on the daily. A queue of interested beauties probably formed at his front door every morning. And why wouldn’t it? He was a wonderful man. Caring. Loyal. Smart. Jane was cagey at best. If she wasn’t gonna lock down his affections, she couldn’t complain when he shared them with others.
Her stomach churned—until Conrad gave his eyes another roll and said, “I’m staying with Beau tonight. He’s picking me up at your house after he meets his true love this evening.” His dry tone drew a chuckle from her. “Trust me, sweetheart. I meant what I told you. I’m not trying to rush this thing with you.” He grew as serious as cholesterol clogged arteries as he rubbed a knuckle on the underside of her chin, making her shiver. “Some things are worth waiting for.”
“Really?” she asked, then chewed on her bottom lip, feeling more vulnerable than ever before. How long were these certain things worth waiting for, exactly?
