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It was his turn to laugh. “Glad to see your self-confidence is healthy.”
“Still’s nice to hear. Any other inappropriate-but-welcome compliments before I start over the bridge?”
He hesitated, then nodded, sober now. “When we’re safe in your office, I want to kiss you.”
She drew a breath, then let it out, considering her reply. Considering how he made her feel... enough. Better than enough.
He made her feel confident in a way that had nothing to do with her job. And when he admired her curves when he thought she wasn’t looking? He made her feel desired.
The way she hadn’t felt in way too long. Not since the boyfriend she’d left behind in North Carolina. The boyfriend who’d looked at her with accusing eyes after she’d killed Jake. Yes, she wanted this, wanted Gabe to kiss her. Wanted him to more than kiss her.
Beside her, he sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I want you to.” She smiled at him ruefully. “I really want you to.”
“But?”
“But you’re my client and it’s not professional.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “Would Burke fire you?”
“No.” The idea was ridiculous. “I’m pretty good at my job. It’s more that there are lines we’re not supposed to cross for a reason. If I kiss you, then...”
One russet brow lifted, his smile amused. “Then?”
“Then I’ll want more. I’m not good at casual.”
“I didn’t think you were. Neither am I. Next objection?”
Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, which seemed to amuse him even more. “I can’t focus on keeping you safe if I’m busy kissing you and... y’know... other stuff.”
His lips twitched. “So when this case is over and you no longer have to keep me safe? Then you’ll kiss me back?”
After this was over, there was no way she’d deny herself. “When this is over, I will definitely kiss you back.”
He smiled. “Good. Then let’s get on with the case, Miss Sutton. The sooner we clear this up, the sooner we can do all that kissing and... y’know... other stuff.”
She smiled back, feeling settled. Feeling optimistic. “Yes, sir.” Looking behind her, she backed up on the shoulder, enough that she could get a running start before merging into the bridge traffic. She got over into the far-left lane as quickly as she could, able to take a long look at the crime scene in progress because traffic had already slowed due to rubberneckers.
“Eckert’s still in the Jeep,” Gabe remarked. “What if they don’t arrest him?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when we get to the office. I’m debating reporting him for pulling a gun on us, but I’d prefer to keep my name out of this as best I can. I’ll tell Burke and let him decide.”
They passed over the bridge, Gabe turning to look behind them. “They’re pulling him out of his Jeep,” he reported. “And they’re holding his gun.”
“Good. One of the cops may have seen him pull it. I’d say our job here is done.” She crossed the highway, getting back into the far-right lane so that she could take the next exit. “Next stop, the office.”
“Where we’ll finally get some answers from Xavier,” Gabe added grimly.
I hope they’re answers that don’t break Gabe’s heart.
The Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana
TUESDAY, JULY 26, 2:20 P.M.
Xavier wished to high heaven that he’d switched places with Willa Mae and that he was driving now. Far from being a poky old-lady driver, the woman was channeling some secret Mario Andretti, weaving in and out of the traffic like a pro.
“Willa Mae!” his mother gasped. For the tenth time. In two minutes.
