She didn’t like his focus off her.
Noah forced a smile at Tricia. “A pleasure, ladies.” He swiveled back toward the model seated next to him.
Tricia eased back around and faced her mother.
Tricia shrugged off the exchange. Why should it bother Tricia? Why did it matter what he thought of her?
The woman next to Noah blathered on about nothing. Graham had set him up with the promise that Lisle would wow him. Not so much. Almost from the moment Noah picked her up, he’d known exactly how the evening would go. Not fast enough.
Graham was right on one point—Lisle was a looker. But every word out of her mouth centered on herself. Who found such self-centered conversation appealing? This would be the last time he let Graham suggest the perfect woman for him.
Lisle pulled on his sleeve, a pout marring her perfect lips. “Where did you go?”
Did she really expect him to tell her his thoughts? On a first date? “What brought you to Lincoln?” He picked at the crumbs on his plate.
She started talking again, seemingly mollified, and Noah glanced at his watch. If things went smoothly, he would drop her off at her apartment in an hour. There must be a lesson buried in this endless, waste-of-time evening. A reason why the only thing to catch and hold his attention was the jolt of electricity he’d felt when he realized Tricia Jamison was in the same room. He’d noticed her the moment she strode into the restaurant, looking as if she was about to head into battle. Something made her feel the need to take charge, yet she’d floundered for words during her conversation with her mother. He’d never seen her like that.
No, the Tricia he knew from a year ago would impress anyone. Poised, with every hair perfectly in place. And a mind that kept her words sharply on target.
“You did it again.” Indignation painted a mask on Lisle’s face.
“Did what?”
“Disappeared.” Lisle crossed her arms and leaned away from him. “If I’m uninteresting, you should take me home. Now.”
Noah felt a twinge of remorse. Maybe Lisle wasn’t his type, but still his mama had raised him to show better manners than ignoring his date. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Noah waved the waitress over and settled the check. He threw the tip on the table, and helped Lisle into her jacket.
As they left his gaze settled on Tricia. There was a tension in the way she sat that he’d never noticed, not even during the trial. Then she’d held herself erect out of engagement. Here she’d steeled herself against some type of assault. As if she feared what might come next.
Could she be afraid of him?
The thought made him stumble and his stomach clenched against the meal he’d just eaten.
Their interactions played through his mind. He’d been hard on her the last few times they’d spoken. Maybe harder than he’d intended or the situation warranted. Had she been hurt by his actions and words? Tricia was so strong, always so much in control. If she were as on top of things as she’d seemed, why couldn’t she have protected him at the trial? That was the root of his anger, but now he started to wonder. Had he expected too much from her? Been unrealistic?
Was he part of the reason sadness shaded her eyes?
He helped Lisle into his truck, and rubbed his neck as he walked around to the driver’s side, trying to focus on her rather than Tricia. She didn’t make it easy, though. If she couldn’t find a mute switch, he’d have a full-blown headache before he dropped her off. Another reason not to date. It never worked for him.
Once he got home, Noah tossed his keys on a table. Maybe the way to get Tricia out of his mind was to figure out what had happened at her mom’s. Then he could move on and forget about her again. He’d done it once. It shouldn’t be harder the second time.
FOUR
Sunday
“You know this wasn’t some dumb kid trying to see what could burn.” Tricia didn’t even try to hide her exasperation as the family sat around Mom’s table for Sunday dinner. Mom and Frank should know better, even if her mom did like to ignore anything that could turn unpleasant. Why didn’t Caleb jump in? He was a police investigator, after all.
“Tricia, let’s not argue.” Mom pushed her hair behind her ears, then picked up her fork.
Frank wiped his mouth. “Your mom worked hard to make this nice meal for you.”
Tricia bit the inside of her mouth to keep from screaming. They shouldn’t treat this like every other after-church dinner. Someone had torched her mom’s shed, and she wouldn’t let it go. “Caleb, you agree with me, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Caleb’s eyebrows knitted together. “Right now, I think it’s one of the guys I investigated rather than some bored kid.” He leaned his elbows on the table and stared at Mom. “There are dangerous men on that list.”
“I really think the two of you are worked up over nothing.” She looked at Frank, who seemed intent on ignoring the topic. Tricia wanted to shake him and make him get Mom to listen. While Mom’s voice stayed soft and undaunted, it marginalized Tricia’s fears.
Tricia threw up her hands. “You aren’t listening.”
Frank shook his head and chuckled. “I thought you said the kids were grown, Allison. Not sure I’d have married you if I’d known they’d stay so melodramatic into adulthood.”
Tricia gritted her teeth. Frank sat there sounding so superior, as usual. He seemed to know what to do to make her feel weak and overemotional. She rubbed at the headache forming at her temples. One big, happy family. Yep, that’s what they had. What she wouldn’t give to be back at the office working on someone else’s mess. Anything would be better than being stuck at another family dinner, pretending.
“Kids, enough. This is my house. No one was injured. Frank even gets to shop for more tools. It’s done.” She picked up her fork and pointed at the chocolate decadence on her plate. “I’m not letting this cake go to waste.”
Caleb’s jaw dropped, and Tricia assumed that her face matched his. It didn’t matter who started the fire? Good thing the cake lived up to its name or she might have to leave right then. Mom loved to bury her head in the sand, but surely she had to recognize this was serious.
Caleb took a breath, and Tricia imagined him counting to ten. “We’ll talk later.”
In no time the conversation turned to which team would win the afternoon football game. Tricia tuned them out. She might be a Nebraskan, but today she couldn’t bring herself to care about professional football. Instead, she found herself wishing there were someone in her life who would really hear her concerns—listen to her and pay attention to her feelings.
Maybe a man like Noah Brust. Her thoughts stilled. Why on earth would she think of him? He clearly hated her. She wished the thought didn’t leave a stone of regret in her stomach.
The conversation
