the upset she’d had earlier today, and then again tonight. She didn’t normally spend much time thinking about men’s voices. And especially not a man who was intent on pulling her nephew into the middle of a criminal investigation.
The memory firmed her earlier resolve. At all costs Connally and his partner had to be kept away from Danny. The boy was too young to be well schooled in keeping secrets. And Meghan was determined Connally would never learn about his ability.
The rest of the ride passed in silence. When he pulled up in front of her apartment, she lost no time exiting the car. “Thank you for…what are you doing?”
Gabe put the car into park and turned off the ignition. He didn’t answer her until he’d rounded the vehicle and cupped her elbow in his hand. “Walking you up to your apartment.”
She tried, in vain, to pull away from him. “That isn’t necessary. Besides, you left your car in a no-parking zone.”
His teeth flashed in the darkness. “Don’t worry. I know someone who can fix tickets for me.”
“An admission of corruption,” she muttered as he steered her toward the door of the building, “from one of CPD’s finest. My, my, how surprising.”
“I can also spring that security code for you if you’re not going to punch it in. Lose your key? The inside lock will take ten seconds, tops.” He gave a shrug. “Some talents never leave you.”
She gave him a sidelong glance as she tapped in her code on the security panel. “Rather odd ‘talents’ for a detective to admit to. Did you pick them up from your days in the academy?”
He scanned the street quickly, then opened the door and ushered her inside. “No, from my days as a delinquent.”
His answer succeeded in keeping her silent all the way up to the fourth floor. Knowing it would be fruitless to try and leave him at the elevator, she suffered through having him accompany her to her door, take the key from her and open it.
“Thank you. Again.” She snatched the key away from him and dropped it back in her purse. There was no gratitude in her tone, and she was certain he realized it.
His lips quirked slightly. “No problem. Again. Where’s Callie live?”
“Why?”
His smile grew wider at the thread of caution in the word. “That’s where Danny is, right? I figure she wouldn’t leave her son and maybe her husband to come over here and sit, so Danny must be over there.”
She heaved a sigh. It had been an impossibly long day, and this man was partly responsible for that. The sooner he was on his way, the sooner she could get her life back to normal. Or what passed for normal these days.
“She just lives a few doors that way. Now if you…” Her words tapered off as he began to stride in the direction she’d indicated.
She trailed in his wake like an obedient puppy and didn’t care for the feeling. “Detective, I’ve thanked you for the ride, but it’s time for you to leave.”
“The kid’s probably asleep. You shouldn’t be carrying him. Which door?”
“I’m perfectly capable of carrying him—no, God not that one.” Meghan managed to catch his arm before he could pound on Edna Hathaway’s door. “All you’re liable to find in that apartment is a seventy-eight-year-old lady with an eye for expensive vodka and anything in pants.” The warning wasn’t exaggerated in the slightest. “I heard that it took three days to resuscitate the last man who went in there.”
He grinned at her over his shoulder. “Sounds interesting.” He’d managed to surprise her. He could see it in her eyes and the way her mouth tilted in response. He watched closely, wanting, more than he should have, to see her smile break free. And then he stared, staggered when it did, lightening her expression and softening her eyes. His stomach jittered oddly, and he couldn’t take his gaze off her, not even when her smile faded to be replaced by her earlier coolness.
She moved past him to a door on the opposite side of the hall and tapped lightly. A few moments later it opened and a woman Gabe recognized from that afternoon appeared in the doorway. “Hi. I thought you’d be later. I went ahead and put Danny down on the couch. They begged to stay in Alex’s room but I knew my chances of getting them to sleep there were nonexistent.”
“It didn’t take as long as I thought.” Meghan moved through the doorway, with Gabe right behind her. Spotting the boy curled up on the couch, he crossed the room, bent down and lifted him easily in his arms.
“He gave me a ride home…it’s a long story,” he heard Meghan murmur to her friend.
“Well,” Callie replied, turning to follow the three to the door, “you can tell me about it tomorrow. All about it.” As the door closed behind her and Meghan hurried to catch up with Connally’s long strides, she tried not to imagine the conversation she was going to be in for the next morning.
She caught up with the detective in her living room, where he was waiting patiently for her. “Which is his room?”
“Really, you’ve done enough. If you’d just put him down…” When the man continued to stand there, clearly with no intention of complying, she gave in with ill grace and led him down the hallway. She picked up his treasured Pokémon backpack and tossed it to the end of the bed, before pulling the covers down. Connally moved past her without a sound and gently laid the boy down on the lower of the two bunk beds.
Pulling the covers up and tucking them around her nephew, Megan paused an instant. His breathing was even and deep, and there was a slight flush on his face, which still held some baby fullness. There was an unexpected catch deep in her chest, and in an unconscious gesture, her hand reached out, hovered.
“He’s a good-looking kid.”
The deep voice rumbling in her ear made her start, and she snatched her hand away. Putting a finger to her lips, she walked to the door and waited for Connally to follow. Then she flipped on the hallway light, being careful to leave Danny’s door open. By the time she’d led him back to the living room she’d run out of both patience and composure.
“It’s been a long day. I’m going to follow Danny’s lead and retire soon myself.”
Her attempt at a dismissal failed sadly. Connally’s mouth quirked. “Could I get a glass of water before you throw me out?”
“I’m not—” Pressing her lips together midprotest, Meghan turned and marched to the kitchen. There was something about that man, she fumed, snatching a glass from the cupboard and waiting for the water to run cold, that had her stuttering and stammering like an adolescent. She seemed to have difficulty finishing a sentence around him, and she suspected that he deliberately tried to keep her off balance.
When she returned with the glass, Connally wasn’t where she’d left him. Instead, he’d poked into her study, and seemed quite at home surveying the works in progress she had tacked up on the walls.
The sight stoked her temper further. She’d never enjoyed having people look at her work before it was finished. Even her agent didn’t see her sketches until she’d painstakingly redone them to her satisfaction. Privacy was something that had been hard fought for, hard won. She didn’t relinquish it easily.
“Your
