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“It’s all right, Fiona; you can come out.” When she did so, he was holding her chair at the small dining table. He helped her take her seat and then took his.
“Fancy manners for a guy who prefers a burger and beer to lobster and champagne.”
“Yeah, my mother was a stickler for manners, and taught her sons how to treat a lady. It’s probably best that both my parents had passed when my brother came out publicly. They were pretty conservative.”
“Your brother is gay? Did you know? Is that a problem for you?”
“No. You love who you love. Not everyone finds that someone special that you just want to hold hands with and jump into life. Did I know? Yeah. He came out to see me in Coronado and told me. I’d often wondered, but I figured he’d tell me when he was ready. He met a great guy, and they got married two years ago.”
“I’m surprised I didn’t hear about it. Angel’s Rise has a gossip system that is wicked and fast.”
Slade nodded. “I remember. Davy heads up the overseas operation of the business and they live over in Cardiff—that’s in Wales, but you probably know that.”
“I do. It’s one of the cities I’d like to visit someday.”
“I think you’d like it. It’s not as big or flashy as London, but it has great pubs, and there’s lots to do.”
“What do you do in your spare time?”
Slade laughed. “What spare time? That’s not true. I’m not a sailor like Thorn—although I like going out with him. I prefer hiking, fly fishing, and reading.”
“Really? What do you like to read?”
“I was a big Robert Ludlum fan, and I like Sue Grafton and Dan Brown.”
She nodded. “Me too,” she said, taking a bite of her burger.
“Really? I thought you’d read mysteries or romance.”
“I don’t have a lot of time to read so when I do, I want to read something out of my genre. For one thing I worry about other contemporary mystery writers influencing my own writing. However, I do make an exception for the other members of the Murder Club’s books.”
“Yeah, you guys need to keep your noses out of those cold cases. Some of them can be more dangerous than current ones, and I want you to stay away from Daniel’s case,” he warned, taking a long pull from his beer. Fiona said nothing but ate an onion ring. “Do you hear me, Fiona?”
“I’m not deaf, Slade.”
“I mean it.”
“Well, you’re too late. When we get back to my loft, I’ll show you my murder board. I didn’t get very far.”
Slade groaned. “You’ve gotten as far as you’re going to.” She simply smiled at him. “I mean it, Fiona.”
“What are you going to do, Detective Rafferty?” she said in a simpering voice, batting her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Handcuff me to the bed?”
Slade rolled his eyes. “You keep teasing me about my handcuffs, and I’m going to start thinking you’re serious.”
Fiona said nothing and finished her burger. She found Slade to be good company, and he seemed determined to ensure she didn’t fret or fear her situation. There was no way for him to know that she instinctively knew and believed she was safe with him, not because he thought she was sexy, but because that’s who Slade Rafferty the Third was—a protector. He would be the same with anyone he’d promised to keep safe.
When they’d finished their dinner, Slade stood up and said, “It’s been a long day, and my guess is you didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Thus, the margarita.”
“I suspected as much and got you the large one.”
“And here I was thinking you did that so you could have your wicked way with me. Oh shit! Did I just say that out loud?”
“You did,” he confirmed with a grin that was so sexy it should come with a warning label.
“I haven’t had a drink in months,” she confessed. “I think I’m a little tipsy.”
