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She stared as if it was a stupid question. Maybe to a woman, it was.
“I completed the preliminary background check on Tate McDonald.”
“Okay. And?”
“He checks out, but I don’t like the looks of him.” He was too buttoned up. Too clean-cut. Addy would be bored to tears in minutes.
She laughed. “It doesn’t really matter if you like the way he looks if I do.”
“He’s your type? The preppy, JC Penney, Docker-model-type guy?” Given the pink streaks in her hair and the sarcastic sense of humor, I’d expected more edge to a guy she’d want to a date. A challenge.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea. But given the way my last two dates went, let’s just say I’m not dismissing anyone.”
“I’m giving you my cell phone number. Check in every half an hour.”
She put her hands on her hips. “That is so not happening.”
“I’m trying to ensure you’re safe. It’s what I do for a living.” I added the latter, afraid she might read into my words. Or hell, maybe trying to convince myself this was only about her safety.
“Compromise. I’ll text you when I get to the restaurant. Okay?”
“And when you leave. And if anything makes you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. Also give me the restaurant name and address.”
She hesitated but finally relented. “Fine. What’s your number?”
* * *
Friday nightstypically consisted of me buying a round of beers at the Angry Rooster for my supervisors and heading home to cook dinner and fall into bed early. I was far from celibate, but I hadn’t found myself interested in female companionship in…damn, since I’d met Addison.
While sitting at the table, my beer untouched, I glanced at my phone. My grip tightened on the device when I saw her text message about arriving at the restaurant. I could imagine her laughing and smiling at Tate, who was probably wearing a polo shirt, starched trousers, and knockoff Italian leather loafers. Addy was probably telling him all the things I didn’t know about her.
“What’s up with you tonight?” Craig was one of the few, aside from my brothers, who could ask this personal a question and not get a growl in response. We’d served a tour together in Iraq and stayed in touch afterward. Thankfully, he hadn’t been with me on the last one; otherwise, he might not be sitting next to me.
Taking a slug of my beer, I muttered, “Nothing. I’m surprised you’re not with Addison’s cousin tonight.”
He grinned, appearing smitten. “Mal is out with her co-workers for happy hour; then I’m meeting her after.”
“Things are going well, I take it?”
“Yeah. She’s a great girl. Hard worker.”
“A bit on the high-maintenance side.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t mind it.”
Some guys didn’t, but I worried a nice guy like Craig would fall hard and fast while Malorie might be playing the game. “Any chance Mal wants to meet you at a restaurant? Italian food, someplace called Astoria off the strip?”
His nose scrunched. “You mean where Addy is meeting her date?”
“Yeah. I want to be sure she’s safe. A lot of weirdos out there.” And because he looked as if he was about to ask me if it was personal, I oversold it. “I read an article the other day about how a guy was drugging his dates by slipping something into their drinks when they got up to go to the restroom.”
Now he was frowning. “Shit. Let’s go.”
ChapterEleven
ADDISON
It seemed strange to sit down to wait for my date and text the one man I shouldn’t be thinking about. Still, I’d promised to inform Leo when I arrived. And it was comforting to know he cared enough to ensure my safety. Not in an “I wished he was my dad” way, but in an “I wished he was here instead and maybe he was jealous I was out with another man” way.
