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As the line went dead, Bri slipped the phone back into the pocket of her jacket. Accepting a one-way lift from Marc shouldn’t be too risky. They could discuss the case on thedrive downtown in the morning. Keep everything businesslike. Alison could pick her up.
“Turn left at the next light. We’re getting close.” She shifted her weight to relieve the ache that radiated from her hip to her knee. “I can get a lift home or to the garage tomorrow afternoon, but a ride to work would be appreciated if you’re certain it’s not too much bother.”
“No bother at all.”
“So what brought you back to St. Louis from Chicago?”
He shot her a quick look, as if the abrupt change of topic surprised him, but it was impossible to read his expression in the dim car. “Family.”
“You’re from here?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“Same.”
“What did you do before you joined the Bomb and Arson Unit?”
Shoot. Getting into personal history hadn’t been in her plans for today.
But if he dug into her past, there was plenty to find on the web. Why not give him a topline?
“I worked for a year as a fire investigator for an insurance company here, until a job opened up at County. I’ve also done firefighting.”
“In St. Louis?”
“For a couple of years, early in my career. Then I moved west for eight years.”
“Still firefighting?”
“Yes. Take a right at the corner. My apartment is three doors down. You can let me off in front. Is seven tomorrow too early for a pickup?”
“No. I’m used to rising at dawn.”
“If anything comes up and you can’t follow through, let me know and I’ll make other arrangements.”
“I’ll be here.”
“This is it.” She motioned to her duplex.
He stopped the car at the curb. “I’ll get your door.”
“Not necessary. I appreciate your good manners, but you’ve done enough for me already today.” She slid from the car and leaned back down. “Thank you again.”
“It was my pleasure.” The warmth in his tone seeped into her pores. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She closed the door and backed off, but he didn’t pull away. Why was he—
Oh.
He must be hanging around until he was certain she was inside safely.
The man was a gentleman through and through.
Digging through her tote for her keys, she hustled to the door. Once it was open, she waved to him and pushed through, striding toward the kitchen to deactivate her security system. That task accomplished, she returned to the living room and peeked through the front window.
Marc was gone.
But in his wake he’d left a sweet stirring of tenderness, longing, and anticipation—along with a healthy dose of angst.
