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She shook her head. “Those plans were made prior to your incriminating admission.”
“I see. No leniency for the exhausted?”
“Not a chance.”
“You’re tough.”
“I am.” She dished up the eggs and topped them with cheese while he slid the fluffy, golden biscuits into a basket and carried it to the table. As she sat across from him, she wondered if normal mornings with a man like Carson were in her future.
It didn’t seem likely. This kind of calm domesticity had never been on her radar and she didn’t have the type of career that lent itself to an easy, steady routine. Cypress Security was a big improvement over the Special Forces commitment but the hours were often still long and the risks atypical, even for a person who spent most of her time in the office.
As evidenced by current circumstances.
“The biscuits are fabulous,” she said, taking another one and slathering it with butter. “My compliments.”
“Is the recipe the right price for your silence?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“No.” She tossed her napkin on her plate before she gave in to the temptation of a third biscuit. “Just answer one question.” She waited until he met her gaze. “What were you going to tell Shannon about ‘asking me out’?” She put the phrase in air quotes, trying to be casual when the reality of being Carson’s assignment hurt her feelings far more than it should. “On the stairs, before the sniper attacked yesterday, you made it sound like a date.”
“It was supposed to.” He frowned into his coffee, turning the mug back and forth between his hands. “I’m thinking the better question is what were you going to tell Bartholomew?”
“Bart wouldn’t care about us going to the range. Unless I couldn’t hit anything.” Eva pushed back from the table and gathered the dishes.
“Right.”
What the hell did that mean?She wanted to know, but she couldn’t form the question in a civil manner. His irritated tone got under her skin, igniting her temper. She’d been the fool who believed his attention was sincere. Clearly the love virus that struck Ross and Rick had infected her too. Her thoughts raced around, none of them settling long enough to make sense. Instead of taking the easy, satisfying route and throwing the dishes at his head, she methodically rinsed each piece and loaded the dishwasher.
“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I’d known about him.”
“Bart is just a friend.”
“I know better, Eva.”
“You knowwhatbetter?” She spun around, fisting her hands in the towel. Better than throttling him. Ross was right, she was stressed out and spoiling for a fight. Carson couldn’t be faulted for helping Ross keep an eye on her. If she could be logical for two seconds, she’d realize he’d done a good job. It wasn’t his fault she found him so damned attractive. She didn’t evenwantto find him attractive.
With a deep breath, she tried to dial it down. Seeing the self-righteous look on his face, she failed. “What’s that mean ‘if you’d known about him’? You and Shannon were looking for a third?” Sneering, she leaned back against the counter and indulged in a long, hungry look. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?” She batted her eyelashes. “Tempt you to stray?”
“Invite me to fight,” he said in that calm, slow way he had.
Something changed on his face, in his eyes. Anger had given way to a softer emotion that fell somewhere between understanding and sympathy.Notacceptable. She turned away, seeking a distraction as her bravado faded. Her eyes lit on the skillet and she snatched it off the stove top and started scrubbing.
No man—no one at all—had ever read her as well as Carson, and they didn’t really know each other. The knowledge should be a balm considering their forced proximity; instead, his perceptive nature gave her chills. Not the good kind, though he set off plenty of those too.
“Shannon dumped me last year,” he said. “I’m not sure who’s feeding the sheriff gossip, but I’m not seeing anyone. Particularly not her. Yes, I was supposed to keep tabs on you, but I would never have asked you out on a date if I’d knownyouwere involved with someone.”
She paused her ruthless scouring of the skillet, tossing her hair out of her face. “Who’s feeding you that worthless gossip?” Bart had never been to Haleswood before yesterday. If Ross or Rick were pulling some kind of prank on Carson, she’d put an end to that with a quick phone call.
“Not gossip. I heard him tell you he loved you.” Carson poured more coffee. “Right after he took a bullet for you.”
Eva cursed men in general as she tested the weight of the skillet, wondering if it would be enough to knock some sense into him. “First of all, I think the sniper wanted him all along. It’s not my turn yet.” She held up a hand when Carson started to argue. “Secondly, if I remember correctly, Bart professed his devotion—sarcastically—after I threatened to finish him off. For a tough guy, he whines a lot when he’s hurt. It was annoying.”
For a long moment they just stared at each other. The heat in his eyes amped up her already charged senses until nothing existed beyond him, beyond this room. Her eyes drifted to his mouth, imagining how it would feel to kiss him. Helpless against the reaction, she licked her lips.
“Don’t do that.”
