Point of Danger (Triple Threat #1) - Irene Hannon Page 0,49
me, anyway—and in a relationship, that’s all that counts.”
“One evening doesn’t change the habits of a lifetime.”
“It’s a first step. And for the record, I also feel the connection between us. I hoped it was mutual. Now that I know it is, I can see promising possibilities ahead.”
“I’d like to say the same.” His tone was sad. Defeated. “But there’s another barrier.”
The strains of “I Won’t Back Down” riffed through the kitchen again.
Eve glared at her cell. “I’m letting that roll.”
“If you want to get it, that’s fine. I have to go.” He stood abruptly, as if the urge to flee was too strong to resist. “The cake was great.”
She checked his plate.
Empty.
When had he finished his dessert?
“Let me get you another piece to take home.”
He edged toward the doorway to the hall. “You don’t have to do that.”
She ignored him.
Brain whirring at warp speed, she retrieved the cake from the refrigerator. As she cut another generous slice and encased it in plastic wrap, his barrier comment kept looping through her mind.
What was the other obstacle between Brent and a relationship?
If she could detain him a few minutes, there was a chance he’d tell her—and she needed to know. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to address it.
She slid the cake back into the fridge and turned.
He was already waiting in the doorway between the kitchen and hall, keys in hand.
Her spirits tanked. There would be no more conversation tonight.
Stifling her frustration, she crossed to him and passed over the cake. “Would you like to borrow an umbrella?”
“No thanks. I can run to the car.” He walked toward the foyer, leaving her no choice but to follow. “I’ll let you know as soon as the lab weighs in on tonight’s note and any findings from the CSU.”
“I’m not holding out much hope for helpful news.”
He stopped at the front door and angled toward her. “You’ll give Phoenix a call?”
“Top of my list tomorrow—after I arrange to get new tires put on my car.”
“Do you have to be anywhere in the morning?”
She could lie to take advantage of the implied offer of a lift—and a chance to see him again—but working on the floors was the primary item on her schedule for tomorrow.
“No. Under the circumstances, I think God will overlook my absence at church.”
He hefted the cake. “I’ll enjoy this. Thanks again.”
“I have more if you run out—and I’m always available if you want to talk.”
He didn’t bite. “I appreciate that.” Turning away, he reached for the knob.
In five seconds, he’d be gone.
A bold idea sprouted in Eve’s mind, and she stopped breathing. Brazen wasn’t her style—but letting him leave without impressing on him how much he’d come to mean to her in their short acquaintance felt like a mistake.
“Brent.”
He paused. Slowly pivoted back toward her.
Without giving herself a chance to get cold feet, she closed the distance between them . . . rose on tiptoe . . . and brushed her lips over his.
He froze as she lowered herself to her heels.
“They say actions . . . speak louder than words.” Her sentence came out choppy, as if she was winded. “That action is to let you know how much I care about you—and that I’m willing to work with you on whatever other obstacle you think stands between you and romance. The sparks we’re generating deserve to be explored.”
His nostrils flared, and his chest rose and fell as fast as if he’d run a hundred-meter dash. “You don’t play fair.”
“I’ll always play fair with you. But I’m not afraid to go after what I want—or let you see how I feel.”
“A classic example of the difference between us.”
“You opened up tonight. If you can do it once, you can do it again—until it becomes a new habit.”
“That could take a long time.”
“I’m on no deadline.”
A gust of wind sent a spray of cool mist through the door.
“I’ll call you.” He moved to the porch. “In the meantime, watch your back.”
“That’s my plan.”
No commitment other than a phone call—but she’d take it.
He hesitated . . . then spun away and jogged down the walk through the rain.
Eve watched from the door until nothing but the dim glow of his receding taillights remained. As far as she could tell, he never looked back.
With a sigh, she locked the door and wandered back to the kitchen, where the faint scent of his aftershave lingered. Closing her eyes, she inhaled it—and tried to gear herself up for the call to Grace. Her sister