Colton 911: Target In Jeopardy. Carla Cassidy
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One thing was for certain. She’d said she looked fat, but that wasn’t true. She made a beautiful pregnant woman. Yes, her belly was big and round, but that was the only place she looked like she’d gained weight.
Her skin looked warm and so...so touchable, and she also appeared to glow from within. The black-and-pink-ink blouse made the green of her eyes appear clear and bright. But her beauty had nothing to do with the relationship they needed to build.
“Tell me more about your job,” he now said. “How long have you been a prosecutor?”
“Only for the past year,” she replied. “Before that I was a defense attorney.”
“What made you change?” he asked curiously.
Her green eyes darkened with shadows just before she gazed down at her plate. She took a moment and then looked back at him. “Whether anyone wants to acknowledge it or not, there’s a growing drug problem in this town.”
She paused and then continued, her eyes showing a blaze of passion that vanquished the shadows. “Everyone says drug abuse is a victimless crime, but that’s so not true. I’ve seen the devastation left behind in families when somebody overdoses and dies. I’ve seen families torn apart by a drug addict who is stealing from them and lying to them to support a habit. My mission now is to see that when the police arrest drug dealers, they stay behind bars.”
“A noble mission,” he replied. What he didn’t say was that there was a lot more going on in Whisperwood than drug sales. There was no reason to include murder and a serial killer in their conversation, and potentially change the positive vibe they had between them right now.
Still, she looked wonderfully attractive with that blaze in her eyes and her cheeks flushed with her emotion. She’d looked that way when they had made love. He glanced down into his coffee cup and shoved the inappropriate thoughts out of his head.
As they finished the meal they each talked more about their jobs. She told him about some of the more colorful and funny things that had happened in her work in court.
In turn he told her about some of the rescues he’d been a part of after the hurricane’s floodwaters had swept through the vicinity. “We’re still doing cleanup in several areas.”
By that time they had finished with their dinner. “Are you up for dessert?” he asked.
“Oh no, I’m too full of mashed potatoes and gravy to even think about dessert,” she protested. “But you feel free to order some.”
“No, I’m good to go.” He signaled to Susan for their tab.
“I’m happy to go dutch,” she said.
“That’s unnecessary,” he replied.
“Dallas, I’m used to paying my own way.”
He smiled at her. “For tonight please allow this army sergeant turned cowboy to buy your dinner.”
“Okay, and thank you. But if we go out to eat again, then you must let me pay my own way.”
“I see a lot of meals out in our future,” he replied.
“Or maybe I could cook for you,” she replied.
“Are you a good cook?”
“I think I am. I don’t do anything too fancy, but I can put a pretty decent meal on the table.”
At that time Susan returned to the table with their tab. Dallas paid cash, left a tip and then he and Avery got up from the booth.
She walked ahead of him past the other booths still filled with diners. She had reached the last one when a young man suddenly got up and slammed into her side, nearly knocking her into a nearby table.
“Hey,” Dallas said. He grabbed Avery to him, grateful that she hadn’t fallen.
“Sorry,” the man muttered. “I didn’t see her.” He stared at Avery for a long moment and then slid back into his booth as one of the young men with him snickered.
“It’s okay,” Avery said, and moved out of his embrace. Dallas followed her to exit the diner.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked with concern as they walked toward his truck.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
“What a creep,” he said. “He could have seriously hurt you.” He thought of that moment when the man had held Avery’s gaze. “Do you know him?”
“Unfortunately, I do. His name is Joel Asman, and he runs in the same crowd as Dwayne Conway.”
“The man you put behind bars.”
“Right.”
By that time they’d reached the truck, and he helped her into the passenger seat. “So, you think he bumped into you on purpose?” he asked. The man had had punk written all over him, from his greasy dark hair to the snake tattoos that had decorated his skinny arms.
“It’s possible, but really, it’s no big deal,” she replied.
Anyone who would push a pregnant woman was a creep in Dallas’s eyes. Hell, anyone who would push a woman at all was a major creep.
Within minutes they were back at her house. He walked her to the front door, where she paused to dig keys out of her purse, and then she turned to look at him. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”
“If you’re up for it then I’d love to,” he replied. He wouldn’t mind getting a look at the space where she lived...where his children would live.
She opened the door and immediately a little black dog was dancing at her feet, while barking doggie happiness. “I’m sorry,” she said. “She loves people. She’ll calm down in just a minute.”
He bent down to pet the little black ball of energy. “What’s her name again?”
“Lulu,” she replied. “Lulu, enough. Let’s go into the kitchen.”
As he followed her through the living room and into the large kitchen, Lulu ran ahead of them. “Have a seat and I’ll get the coffee.”
He sank down in one of the chairs at the round oak table and looked around. Yellow-and-white gingham curtains hung at the large window. Yellow wooden signs with happy and optimistic sayings decorated the wall. The room felt warm and inviting.
She placed a pod in the one-serving coffeemaker on the counter and then got out a tea bag and filled a cup with water.
He continued to look around the room. A back door held a little doggie door. “Do you have a fenced-in backyard?”
“Yes, it was one of my requirements when I was house-hunting.” She placed the cup of water into the microwave and then turned to face him.