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“Does she have a name?”
“Brianne. She goes by Bri.”
“Pretty. I bet she was impressed by your excellent manners.”
“I think so—but I gave you all the credit.” He accelerated toward the highway.
“I thought you said you probably wouldn’t be seeing her again.”
“The case heated up.”
A beat passed, and he looked over again to find her watching him, her mouth set in a smug curve.
“That’s not the only thing heating up, I’d wager.” The glint turned to a twinkle.
He stifled a groan.
“She’s a business associate, Nan—and she’s given me no indication she’d like to be more.”
“Rubbish.”
“What does that mean?”
“A woman doesn’t meet a man for coffee and scones on a Saturday morning, or trek to the lobby of a medical building for an exchange I imagine could have been done on the phone, unless there are sparks flying that have nothing to do with the fire you two are investigating. The evidence is all there.”
“Sometimes evidence can be misleading.” He pulled onto I-64 and picked up speed toward home. “I agree with you in principle, but whenever we’re together she seems skittish. And she always shuts down if the conversation gets too personal.”
“I wonder if there’s some unpleasant history holding her back.”
“She did say she had a bad experience with a guy in the past.”
“There you go.” Nan lifted her uninjured hand, palm up. “Don’t give up on her too soon. I bet you’ll win her over if you keep at it.” She yawned and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Mercy. All at once I’m wilting like a thirsty daisy.”
“Why don’t you lean back and rest until we get home? I’ll do a drive-through at Panera and pick up dinner.”
“I believe I will.” She settled into the corner and let her head tip back.
Within three minutes, her slight snoring confirmed she’d succumbed to sleep.
Fine by him. A few quiet minutes would be welcome after his adrenaline-pumping day racing to two high-profile fire scenes, plus his adrenaline-laced meeting with Bri.
What would it take for her to trust him enough to open up? To offer more than a tantalizing tidbit here and there about her background?
Would it help if he told her more about his own past?
He flipped on the wipers as rain began to sluice down the windshield, easing back on the gas pedal in response to the flash of brake lights on the car in front of him.
Maybe.
But he was no more inclined to talk about his history than she was to share hers. The passage of years could dull pain and guilt, but they never went away. And who wanted to dredge up unhappy memories?
Yet if doing so allowed him to breach the barriers she was erecting, might it be worth the risk?
Traffic picked up speed, and he exerted more pressure on the gas pedal.
A decision like that required serious thought, and it wasn’t one he had to make today.
Yet he did need to make it soon.
