I put on The Glare.
“You need a woman,” I told him, trying to be uppity and throw some attitude.
It wasn’t a smart thing to do.
His eyes came back to me and his expression turned my bones to water.
Eek!
I left the bathroom.
I slapped on minimal makeup, put on jeans and a v-necked, scarlet-red, long-sleeved t-shirt that Mom bought me and yes, you guessed it, it was skintight. I blew my hair dry and pul ed it back in a ponytail holder. Because I felt in the mood, I put on a pair of kick-butt, high-heeled, tan boots and a belt so wide, it strained the limits of my belt loops.
Eddie pul ed on a long-sleeved, white, thermal t-shirt, his jeans, boots and belt, took his gun and cuffs from the drawer in the bedside table and clipped them to the belt on his jeans. His final touch was to grab his badge from the his jeans. His final touch was to grab his badge from the dresser and hook it on his belt.
I picked up my purse and we rol ed out the backdoor.
We were halfway across the yard when I noticed Eddie scanning. My stomach clenched and I started scanning too, looking for heads peering over Eddie’s tal fence. He unlocked the garage and we were in the truck, waiting for the garage door to open, Eddie watching it through his rearview mirror, al the while fishing in his pocket. Then he held out a set of keys to me.
“Keys to the house,” was al he said.
I took them. My stomach clenched again and he started the truck. He was about to put the truck in gear when I put my hand on his forearm. He didn’t move his hand, but his eyes came to mine.
There were a lot of things to say.
“Thank you” being the biggest one on the list, but the words weren’t good enough.
“I’m sorry to be a pain in the ass” was another one that was way up there.
I knew I should say something, anything, but I didn’t know what to say.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said.
His eyebrows came up.
I took my hand from his arm and looked away.
“Chiquita, is this about the keys?” he asked.
“It’s about everything,” I told the window.
Silence.
“Hey,” he said quietly and I looked at him.
His eyes were serious.
“I’m guessin’ you feel you owe me big just about now.” I nodded.
He smiled slowly. First the dimple, then his lips curved, then his white teeth came out.
I narrowed my eyes at him, turned away, did my seatbelt and crossed my arms on my chest. “I really don’t like you,” I said.
He laughed.
“I’m not joking.”
“You’re so ful of shit.” But he said it like it was a good thing.