I Kissed a Dog - By Carol van Atta Page 0,15

with his jaw twitching and fists clenched. He seemed to be experiencing an internal battle, remaining sullen.

As I’d expected, there were a number of key elements being kept from the media. Agent Green did go on record with the information about a woman being involved in the slayings. All other details had been kept confidential.

Luke found me alone by my cubby. I stared at the wall unsure what to do next, dreading my evening commute back to Florence.

Luke patted my shoulder. “You okay?”

Tempted to snap at him for his ridiculous question, I bit my lip instead, deciding he didn’t have a clue what else to say. Conversations were always strained following a death. Not just any death, but the brutal killing of a mutual friend.

“I’m okay,” I lied, relieved that what felt like the longest day of my life was over.

“It’ll be different around here.” He leaned against his desk, watching me clean out my cubby. “Do you want to grab a drink?”

I paused. We’d never had a drink together. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to spend my personal time with Luke. I understood his reasoning. With Will dead, and our unacknowledged attraction, it made sense. Still, my internal alarm system was chiming away. Warning that in my current condition I might turn to Luke for comfort. I’d regret that big time.

No. I wanted to go home — alone — and cry.

“Thanks for the offer, but not tonight.” I could tell he was disappointed.

“Well, all right. If you need tomorrow off, I understand,” he offered sounding drained.

“I’ll be here.” Staying home stewing about what I’d witnessed wasn’t an option. “You take care.”

When I reached my car, I was shocked to see Zane’s Corvette next to mine. He stood by the rear bumper, staring into the distance. “Good, you’re here.”

“And?” I tried to hide my excitement, and frustration. How could one man conjure such opposing feelings? I’d just rejected a man I’d known and liked for years, but was giddy over an almost stranger.

“I just figured you could use a friend.” He shrugged. “We could go Dutch on drinks.” His dark eyes bore into mine, sending chills down my spine.

Ignoring the fact that moments ago I’d told Luke no, I decided to throw caution to the wind. “Sure. Where?”

“You live in Florence, right?”

“I do, but you haven’t told me where you’re staying.” I still knew nothing of substance about Zane Marshall.

Well, that wasn’t one-hundred-percent true. I knew he liked me and considered me a good woman. I knew he had the power to enrage or encourage me. Most important, I knew there was a connection between us unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I just didn’t know where he lived.

“I’m not sure about a permanent location. For now, I rented a place a few miles out of town. I’ll find a good deal on a house soon.”

Satisfied with his answer, I decided to choose a spot where I felt comfortable and was close to home, ensuring I could take my own car. “If you don’t mind following me up to Florence and backtracking after, we could go to Joni’s Bar and Grill. They have good specials.”

An hour later, we were once again seated across from each other in a corner booth. This time, the lights were dim and tendrils of smoke curled upward from the crowded tables. The smell of liquor and boisterous laughter filled the rustic bar giving it a certain appeal.

“Is this becoming a habit?” Zane grinned from behind his menu.

“No!” It’s just been a strange day.”

Because the truth was, no matter how strange a day, or how much I resisted Zane, spending time with him was enjoyable, and watching the women watch him added an interesting twist, one I hadn’t experienced on this level before. Not that the guys I’d dated before were bad looking, they just couldn’t compare to Zane. I wasn’t sure any man could, and I knew it wasn’t just his good looks I appreciated.

“Strange yes, but I’ve never enjoyed the company so much.”

A perky waitress, I didn’t recognize, saved me from responding. As expected, she almost drooled at the sight of Zane, who ordered without hesitation, “I’ll take the largest steak on the menu, very rare, and whatever beer you have on tap.”

“Chef Salad,” I piped up, realizing she was still staring at my companion, ignoring my presence. Was I invisible? Considering the number of men who dared sneak a look my direction, I guessed not.

“You sure have your share of admirers,” Zane noted

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