profiling.” Brody glared at me. “It’s a convention of crazy descending on my city, not two days before this rare gold show. Except these Connecteds seem to have pretty much zero point zero interest in the damned thing, unless these cases are their focus. So, if the Rarity didn’t bring them to Vegas, what did?”
“Great TV ads?”
His gaze snapped up to mine so abruptly I almost took a step back. “You know, I’m not sure when we ended up on opposite sides, but I would suggest you knock it off.”
I couldn’t move for a second. In Brody’s glare, there was more than irritation, more than confusion. There was hurt. I’d gone ten years without gazing into those eyes, hearing his voice on a regular basis, yet now I couldn’t help but relive The Sariah and Brody Files every time I saw the man. I’d dreamt up a decade of possibilities, a lifetime of future plans, with impossibly hot, impossibly sweet, impossibly unattainable Officer Brody Rooks, and he didn’t know any of it.
He wouldn’t know any of it either.
He’d been the sole person I’d left unscathed back in Memphis, the sole person whose life I hadn’t irrevocably damaged. I wasn’t going to ruin that now.
I strolled over to Brody, close enough to make him tense. God, he even smelled like the cop I remembered, a heady mixture of cheap shampoo and warm skin. “I’m not trying to get on your bad side, Brody. I’m not trying to get on your good side.” I shoved my hands into my back pockets, shielding them from his view as I worked the watch off my left wrist. “I’m just trying to get by, like anyone else is.”
“Get by?” He was clearly fighting an inner battle with himself, and I didn’t know which way it was going. Arrest Sara or let her go? Take her in for questioning or walk away from her? Pull her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her or—
“Miss Wilde.”
Absolutely worst. Freaking. Timing. Ever.
I focused on Brody, who kept talking. “I don’t like the idea of you having to get by, Sara. That’s no way to live, and I get the feeling you’ve been living that way for a hell of a long time.”
I blinked at him, the sudden startled emotion his words caused drowning out the Magician’s mind touch. Whether Armaeus had something important to share or he was just cop-blocking me, he could wait. “You don’t need to worry about me, Brody. I’m not your job anymore.”
“You’re not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” His mouth tightened the moment he said the words, obviously regretting them.
My chest squished inward a little, the stab of pain on a totally different level from the psychic and physical jabs of the last week. So, naturally, I went on the defensive. “Hey, whoa. I don’t need your pity. I’m doing fine.”
“Sariah—”
“It’s Sara . Sara Wilde .” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince more, but my little walk down memory lane with Officer Brody Rooks was over. “Will you stop with the Sariah crap?”
“Jesus.” He scowled, glanced away. Taking advantage of his distraction, I edged to the side of the open space and dropped Simon’s watch into a crease in the packages there. Hopefully they weren’t flammable. I guess we’d see. “Sorry, you’re right.” Brody muttered, looking back at me. “Sara.”
“It’s okay.” I crossed my arms, hugging myself. Time to go. “You gotta search the place or something? I don’t think he’s here—”
“No…no.” Brody remained flustered, but when he finally turned, I fell into step with him. Fifty-two, fifty-one, fifty…
We covered the distance between across the floor to the main doorway quickly enough. Then he hesitated again. “Sara—”
Not a good time for hesitating. Fortunately, I didn’t have to reach too deeply to channel my inner mad. Brody was a good man, a decent man, and I was absolutely about to screw him over. Again.
Because if he didn’t key open the damned door like now, my little
“Great TV ads?”
His gaze snapped up to mine so abruptly I almost took a step back. “You know, I’m not sure when we ended up on opposite sides, but I would suggest you knock it off.”
I couldn’t move for a second. In Brody’s glare, there was more than irritation, more than confusion. There was hurt. I’d gone ten years without gazing into those eyes, hearing his voice on a regular basis, yet now I couldn’t help but relive The Sariah and Brody Files every time I saw the man. I’d dreamt up a decade of possibilities, a lifetime of future plans, with impossibly hot, impossibly sweet, impossibly unattainable Officer Brody Rooks, and he didn’t know any of it.
He wouldn’t know any of it either.
He’d been the sole person I’d left unscathed back in Memphis, the sole person whose life I hadn’t irrevocably damaged. I wasn’t going to ruin that now.
I strolled over to Brody, close enough to make him tense. God, he even smelled like the cop I remembered, a heady mixture of cheap shampoo and warm skin. “I’m not trying to get on your bad side, Brody. I’m not trying to get on your good side.” I shoved my hands into my back pockets, shielding them from his view as I worked the watch off my left wrist. “I’m just trying to get by, like anyone else is.”
“Get by?” He was clearly fighting an inner battle with himself, and I didn’t know which way it was going. Arrest Sara or let her go? Take her in for questioning or walk away from her? Pull her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her or—
“Miss Wilde.”
Absolutely worst. Freaking. Timing. Ever.
I focused on Brody, who kept talking. “I don’t like the idea of you having to get by, Sara. That’s no way to live, and I get the feeling you’ve been living that way for a hell of a long time.”
I blinked at him, the sudden startled emotion his words caused drowning out the Magician’s mind touch. Whether Armaeus had something important to share or he was just cop-blocking me, he could wait. “You don’t need to worry about me, Brody. I’m not your job anymore.”
“You’re not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” His mouth tightened the moment he said the words, obviously regretting them.
My chest squished inward a little, the stab of pain on a totally different level from the psychic and physical jabs of the last week. So, naturally, I went on the defensive. “Hey, whoa. I don’t need your pity. I’m doing fine.”
“Sariah—”
“It’s Sara . Sara Wilde .” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince more, but my little walk down memory lane with Officer Brody Rooks was over. “Will you stop with the Sariah crap?”
“Jesus.” He scowled, glanced away. Taking advantage of his distraction, I edged to the side of the open space and dropped Simon’s watch into a crease in the packages there. Hopefully they weren’t flammable. I guess we’d see. “Sorry, you’re right.” Brody muttered, looking back at me. “Sara.”
“It’s okay.” I crossed my arms, hugging myself. Time to go. “You gotta search the place or something? I don’t think he’s here—”
“No…no.” Brody remained flustered, but when he finally turned, I fell into step with him. Fifty-two, fifty-one, fifty…
We covered the distance between across the floor to the main doorway quickly enough. Then he hesitated again. “Sara—”
Not a good time for hesitating. Fortunately, I didn’t have to reach too deeply to channel my inner mad. Brody was a good man, a decent man, and I was absolutely about to screw him over. Again.
Because if he didn’t key open the damned door like now, my little
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