his nostrils flared. Her exotic perfume wafted across the room and slid into his shirt with him.
“Did you bring the case files with you?” As he buttoned up the shirt in front of the mirror, his eyes strayed to her empty hands.
She arched an eyebrow. “I’m not bringing those to dinner. We know the basics. I have a notepad and pen in my purse just in case we have some amazing breakthrough.”
He wouldn’t bring case files to a normal working dinner either but this was no normal working dinner and he wanted the security of a distraction—a distraction from those dark, liquid eyes that shimmered with a hypnotic glow in candlelight.
“Give me one minute to make some sense of my hair.” He retreated to the safety of the bathroom, but she followed him.
“Really? Eric Brody uses hair product now?” She curved against the doorjamb like a long, lean cat.
He rubbed the gel between his hands. “It’s that or get a haircut.”
“Don’t do that. I like your hair longer.” She tilted her head. “How do the big boys feel about the long hair?”
“They haven’t said one way or the other, but then I don’t see much of them.” He rinsed his hands off in the sink and grabbed a towel.
“I’m sure they’re just thrilled to get you back, long hair and all.”
He stuffed the hand towel over the rack. “There are a couple of restaurants within walking distance to the hotel, but since we’re going to hit the bookstore after dinner we might as well drive.”
“There’s a restaurant I’ve been wanting to try for a while. It’s in the Haight-Ashbury district and should be pretty close to the bookstore, too.”
“Sounds good.” Anything sounded good about now—just to get out of this confined hotel room with Christina looking and smelling like sex on wheels.
Once in the parking garage, he stopped at the bumper of the little rental. “Do you want me to drive?”
“That’s okay. The car’s in my name.” She clicked the remote. “We don’t want to break any laws, especially with your brother, the SFPD detective, out on vacation.”
He had no choice but to be a passenger in her car while she sat in the driver’s seat. But he didn’t have to be a passenger on this journey. He didn’t have to be swept along a current of old feelings and desires. He’d been willing to give this woman everything, and she’d betrayed him...for a good story.
She swung the car into the line of traffic and sped up to avoid the cable car trundling to their right.
“It’s a little tricky driving these streets.”
“You’re a native—you should be used to it by now.”
“I didn’t drive much when I lived here—walking and public transportation have always been the best ways to get around.” She hunched over the steering wheel and peered at the road in front of her. “Do you think you’ll ever move back to the city?”
“You know I’m in D.C. now? I like it but if opportunity knocked, I could make my home here again.” He just might have to if he wanted to slay his demons.
“Do you plan to see your brothers while you’re here?”
“As you already know, Sean’s on an extended vacation, and I don’t think Judd’s in town either. I may take a trip up the coast to see Ryan.”
“Yeah, Sean had an interesting case a few months ago.”
“And Lopez was trying to get that story, too.”
Christina bit her lower lip.
The silence in the car lasted just a few awkward minutes.
With her hand balanced on the top of the steering wheel, she pointed out the window. “I think we can park on this street for the restaurant and the bookshop.”
She did an admirable parallel parking job, and he hopped out of the car. The confines of the car ended up being a lot worse than the hotel. Dinner had to be better.
He opened the restaurant door for her and she brushed past him. Was she trying to drive him crazy?
The Friday night crowd was crammed into every table in the room and perched on every stool at the large circular bar in the middle of the restaurant.
“Ugh, I didn’t even think about making a reservation.”
Eric hunched toward the hostess stand. “How long is the wait?”
She ran the eraser end of her pencil down the columns of a book. “Just two?”
“Yes, and we promise we won’t stay long.”
“We just had a cancellation, so I can squeeze you in.”
“Perfect.” Eric slipped her a twenty as she turned to lead them to a table.
Christina pressed in next to him and whispered in his ear. “Must be that Brody charm.”
As she pulled away, the strands of her hair tickled his neck.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He needed a good, stiff drink, and probably should stop thinking about a good, stiff anything.
The hostess led them to a decent table along the wall and tucked behind a plant.
“I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”
Christina made a face. “I’m driving, so I’ll abstain. Did you hear about Zollars?”
“DUI?”
“In a company car, on company business.”
“Did he get his hand slapped?”
The waiter approached and Eric ordered a scotch, neat while Christina asked for ice water.
When the waiter left, Christina shook out her napkin and draped it across her lap. “He got reprimanded and suspended for six weeks.”
“Idiot.”
“How was South America?”
“Hot and humid.”
“I heard your team brought down a pretty high roller down there.”
“We did all right. I heard you’re making your mark on the serial killer unit. Dream come true, huh?”
She stopped fussing with her napkin and planted her elbows on the white tablecloth. “Can we just get this out of the way so you’ll stop taking jabs at me?”
“Am I jabbing?” He knew damn well he was. It was the only thing keeping him from pulling her into his arms and kissing the smart aleck from her.
“You’re too manly to play coy, Eric.
