come along."
He shook his head. "Not a good idea."
"Why?"
"People know me and will talk more freely without a stranger around."
"And you think the culprit will just give himself away because he feels comfortable with you?"
Luc arched one brow. "What I think is, the culprit, as you call him, is less likely to do so if the object of his harassment is stalking him. And with the right information, I have been known to solve a small riddle or two. It's what I do. When I'm allowed to do my job."
" I'm not doubting your skill. I just want to be there. Is that so wrong?"
"What's wrong is you don't trust me." He massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He seemed to do that often, but her anger kept her from asking why.
"Just because I want to be a part of your investigation doesn't mean I don't trust you." Not totally true, she thought.
He stepped closer and looked deeply into her eyes. "Be honest. From the first, you thought I might be connected to the vandalism. That even if not directly involved, I might have looked the other way. To avoid biting the hand that feeds me."
"I won't deny it, but that was before."
"Before a double set of raging hormones became impossible to ignore? Before we both decided to put aside instinct, caution and common sense — everything that experience has taught us about getting in too deep." He went silent for a moment, then added, "I think that guy might have done us a favor."
The weariness in his voice and the stiffness of his stance put her on guard. The obvious disappointment shadowing his eyes confused her. "Meaning?"
"We should thank him for interrupting us before we made a colossal mistake."
Her breath caught in her throat, wedged behind a knot of anger she could neither expel nor swallow. Her fingers curled into fists she had no choice but to jam into her pockets. How else could she stifle the urge to punch him in the mouth?
That glorious mouth that only a short while ago had brought pleasure, awakening feelings and impulses she'd chosen over revenge. The same mouth that now called what they'd almost shared, a mistake? She bit down on her tongue to suppress her anger and then thought, the hell with it.
"You needn't concern yourself about either of us making a 'colossal mistake.' Or, heaven forbid, getting in too deep. I'm too smart and you...." She poked him in the chest. "You're too chicken."
She started up the stairs and turned briefly. "Don't let the door smack you in the butt on your way out, Señor Sheriff."
Luc closed the door quietly behind him, making sure no part of his anatomy got in the way as he stepped out onto the veranda. He sat on the top step watching the sky brighten with the coming day. This was getting to be a habit and a bad one at that.
He'd welcomed the vandal's intrusion because it had given him a chance to step back and take a deep breath, an impossible task when he was around the fair Ms. Patterson. Just as he seemed about to lose what little control he had, he'd forced her to bail him out by evoking her anger and wedging it between them.
Her words echoed in his head and churned in his gut. She was right about his cowardice, but not for the reasons she believed true. The episodes of blurred vision and headaches were coming more frequently. What if they didn't stop? Or got worse? If they were the advance guard of something even more serious, he would have nothing to offer Callie.
As long as his future lay in doubt, he could do nothing about the hurt and disappointment in her eyes. He’d put them there and would have to live with them. Sadly, so would she.
* * *
Alternating hot and cold showers had rescued Callie from a night without rest. Three cups of strong black coffee set her on her feet. Unfortunately, neither tactic provided enough incentive to make the ride into Albuquerque as she'd originally planned. Thank God Luc had left before she came downstairs. Facing him would have been too devastating.
Facing
He shook his head. "Not a good idea."
"Why?"
"People know me and will talk more freely without a stranger around."
"And you think the culprit will just give himself away because he feels comfortable with you?"
Luc arched one brow. "What I think is, the culprit, as you call him, is less likely to do so if the object of his harassment is stalking him. And with the right information, I have been known to solve a small riddle or two. It's what I do. When I'm allowed to do my job."
" I'm not doubting your skill. I just want to be there. Is that so wrong?"
"What's wrong is you don't trust me." He massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He seemed to do that often, but her anger kept her from asking why.
"Just because I want to be a part of your investigation doesn't mean I don't trust you." Not totally true, she thought.
He stepped closer and looked deeply into her eyes. "Be honest. From the first, you thought I might be connected to the vandalism. That even if not directly involved, I might have looked the other way. To avoid biting the hand that feeds me."
"I won't deny it, but that was before."
"Before a double set of raging hormones became impossible to ignore? Before we both decided to put aside instinct, caution and common sense — everything that experience has taught us about getting in too deep." He went silent for a moment, then added, "I think that guy might have done us a favor."
The weariness in his voice and the stiffness of his stance put her on guard. The obvious disappointment shadowing his eyes confused her. "Meaning?"
"We should thank him for interrupting us before we made a colossal mistake."
Her breath caught in her throat, wedged behind a knot of anger she could neither expel nor swallow. Her fingers curled into fists she had no choice but to jam into her pockets. How else could she stifle the urge to punch him in the mouth?
That glorious mouth that only a short while ago had brought pleasure, awakening feelings and impulses she'd chosen over revenge. The same mouth that now called what they'd almost shared, a mistake? She bit down on her tongue to suppress her anger and then thought, the hell with it.
"You needn't concern yourself about either of us making a 'colossal mistake.' Or, heaven forbid, getting in too deep. I'm too smart and you...." She poked him in the chest. "You're too chicken."
She started up the stairs and turned briefly. "Don't let the door smack you in the butt on your way out, Señor Sheriff."
Luc closed the door quietly behind him, making sure no part of his anatomy got in the way as he stepped out onto the veranda. He sat on the top step watching the sky brighten with the coming day. This was getting to be a habit and a bad one at that.
He'd welcomed the vandal's intrusion because it had given him a chance to step back and take a deep breath, an impossible task when he was around the fair Ms. Patterson. Just as he seemed about to lose what little control he had, he'd forced her to bail him out by evoking her anger and wedging it between them.
Her words echoed in his head and churned in his gut. She was right about his cowardice, but not for the reasons she believed true. The episodes of blurred vision and headaches were coming more frequently. What if they didn't stop? Or got worse? If they were the advance guard of something even more serious, he would have nothing to offer Callie.
As long as his future lay in doubt, he could do nothing about the hurt and disappointment in her eyes. He’d put them there and would have to live with them. Sadly, so would she.
* * *
Alternating hot and cold showers had rescued Callie from a night without rest. Three cups of strong black coffee set her on her feet. Unfortunately, neither tactic provided enough incentive to make the ride into Albuquerque as she'd originally planned. Thank God Luc had left before she came downstairs. Facing him would have been too devastating.
Facing
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