hesitated. The prickling sensation on the back of his neck refused to go away and, in fact, only grew stronger. Instincts this strong were rarely wrong. But they were usually rooted in something substantive. There had to be more here than he was seeing. And yet, at the same time, he’d never wanted more to be wrong.
All last night—while he’d been distracting himself with a Chicago White Sox game and found it increasingly difficult to keep his mind on any of the innings for longer than a few minutes—he could only think that had to be some babe to interrupt his baseball obsession.
He wanted—needed—to create more distance because he thought about Dr. Owens a lot last night. He’d checked both of his handguns and neither of them had been fired. That gave him a measure of relief. But if he hadn’t killed Dr. Owens, maybe he’d been the reason he was murdered. He wasn’t used to his thoughts being so clouded and paranoid, and he knew his judgment could be off. He simply had to find an edge and hold on to it.
Keeping his distance from this woman wasn’t giving him the clarity he wanted. And all the thinking and distraction weren’t going to help.
“Sure. I’ve got nothing but time to kill.”
She gave him a smile, and there was absolutely nothing impersonal about it.
“What can I get you, sir?”
He realized that he’d been standing there staring at her. He forced his attention away from her face to the barista.
After placing and receiving their orders, he and Olivia walked over to a table by the window. People were walking by on the sidewalk.
“So, how did you end up at Rosebud Spa? Not exactly a place where a rough-and-tough Special Forces guy hangs out.”
“Ha! No, not exactly. I got referred.”
“By whom?”
He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to talk about his mental issues with this woman. She had seen him after he’d woken from that disturbing nightmare and she was so open and easy to talk to. “Dr. John Owens, he’s a psychologist.”
She made a small reaction, her eyes dimmed. “I heard he was murdered.”
“Yes.” His chest got tight and he had to look away. Damn his mental state. He felt he was acting like a little girl, but he had to admit a great fondness for Dr. Owens. “He was a good man.”
“I’m sure.”
“How did you end up working at the Rosebud?”
“I was looking for a job that would give me some pickup work. The owners were looking for a fill-in. It works out for me.”
“You have only the one job?”
She looked away and he got that prickling again. Could just be his paranoia and he was reading something into nothing, given his fixation with trying to figure out what set off his instincts with this woman.
“I work another job. A boring office job. Nothing special.”
He couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary in her statement. But in this situation he always followed his gut. “I can’t imagine that. I’ve been in the field so long serving Uncle Sam I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t enlisted.”
“I can tell it’s something that you’ve been thinking about. You looking to retire?” She took a sip of her coffee, keeping her gaze trained on him.
“I don’t know. I’m tired, and to be honest, I have thought about getting out.”
“Burned out? I’ve seen that before in my job.”
“I bet.” He finished his coffee and decided it was a good idea to nip this in the bud and get the hell away while the getting was good. He rose.
She rose, too, and stood directly in his path. “Look, what do you have planned today?”
Startled by her question, he didn’t answer right away. “Like I said, I’m killing time.” He regretted the words immediately. She was fixin’ to ask him to spend more time with her. He was sure.
“I’m going to the flea market at the fairgrounds, then the Museum of Art. They have a really nice park nearby. You interested?”
Was he ever, and not in just spending the day with her! His initial reaction was to be pleased and flattered as a man would be when a woman he was interested in showed the same in return. Which was the wrong reaction entirely. His gut was telling him something was off. But it might have nothing to do with her. And yet...that was the first thing he’d felt. A good wake-up call that his gut was probably as paranoid as his head.
“Am I reading you wrong?” she asked.
He didn’t move away. He told himself he just wanted to see her eyes up close, get a better idea of what he might be reading in her.
“If I am, I apologize. But I don’t normally have to work this hard for a date.”
Thoroughly charmed, he laughed. Up close like this, with the sunlight illuminating that captivating hair, he got caught up in her look. For someone so forthright and confident, the innocence she projected seemed incongruous. And yet he found her so sweet and compassionate, and it reminded him that no matter how tough the exterior, everyone was vulnerable in some way.
“My life is complicated, Olivia. More so than most people would want to deal with.”
“Oh, well, it’s just the flea market and the art museum and a walk in the park. Sounds like those are uncomplicated things. You look like you could use a simple day. There’s a great café at the museum.”
Sam’s smile came slowly. “I bet you won all your debates in college.”
Her smile spread to a grin that was unaffected as it was honest. “Well, as a matter of fact, I did.”
An afternoon with a beautiful woman—simple, uncomplicated. He could really go for that.
And it was a great afternoon. Olivia was a great conversationalist, lively, with a wicked sense of humor.
So it was easy for him to understand how she ended up at his house on the couch watching baseball with him after he’d grilled some steaks they had picked up on the way there. He was really comfortable with her, and he couldn’t make himself send her on her way.
It didn’t help that she’d snuggled up to him in an open, warm way. He wasn’t going to kiss her, but the urge to do so plagued him.
He was so glad he had that straight in his head. So little was straight in his head these days.
He leaned his head back, enjoying her warm body so close to his. With every breath she took, an irrepressible longing was building inside him, making his chest tight.
It would be good if he could take a full breath, but it seemed as if his lungs were at only half capacity. Maybe that was why he was lightheaded. There was only one truth here: he wanted her.
It had been so long since he’d wanted a woman. Well, he always wanted one. He just hadn’t bothered
