for someone who—
“I’m not stalking you,” came a familiar voice out of the shadows. “I swear.”
“Oh, thank God, it’s you.” Jo sagged against her car. “I was… well, never mind.”
And actually, she’d expected to see him earlier. She’d thought he might be waiting for her in the parking lot again as she’d left the newsroom. Then she’d anticipated the ring of her doorbell at any moment as soon as she’d gotten home: through her after-work shower, through dinner—Slim Jims and M&Ms, mmm tasty—through the debate on whether to get into bed or get out of the apartment.
And now he was here.
Syn walked forward, emerging into the illumination thrown by the light fixture mounted on the corner of the building. As he came over to her, her eyes were greedy and so were her hands. She indulged the former. Kept the latter to herself.
“Hi,” she said as she stared up at him.
“Hi.”
There was a long silence. And then she grabbed his arm and gave it a shake. “Before we say anything else, what’s your phone number? And I promise, this time, I will remember it.”
When he didn’t start spitting out digits, she frowned. Then she closed her eyes.
“Right,” she said with defeat. “So you’ve come to tell me that last night was a mistake that should never have happened because you’re married.”
“What?”
“I gotta go.” She turned back to her car door. “Take care of yourself—”
Now he was the one detaining her, his big hand landing on her shoulder. “Where are you going? It’s late—”
“Why do you care?” She glanced at him. “And I’m not being obnoxious with that. I’ve spent all day thinking about what happened between you and me—and what didn’t. Guilt has a funny way of dimming a man’s performance, and you clearly don’t want me to contact you.”
He shook his head as if she’d switched languages on him. “I’m not following what you’re—”
“You lied to me, didn’t you. You’re with someone.”
“No. I’m not mated.”
Jo rolled her eyes and shrugged out from under his heavy palm. “Married. Whatever—”
“Where are you going?”
“I really don’t have to answer that. If you can’t even be honest with me about where you live, what you do for a living, who you really are, and who you’re with? I don’t have to tell you a goddamn thing about myself—”
“I don’t want you to know the truth about me.”
Jo froze where she was. Then blinked. “So I was right. And I’m afraid that I’ve got to go. I don’t have the energy for any of this, especially not being the side piece to your significant other—”
“I’m not mated.” Syn put his hand on the jamb of her door, preventing her from opening it. “And you’re in danger—”
She put her forefinger right in his face. “I am getting really frickin’ tired of men telling me that tonight.”
A frown landed on his forehead like it had jumped off a bridge. “Who else said it?”
“It’s not important—”
“You will answer me right now.”
“Excuse me?” She stepped in real close. “You don’t use that tone with me. Ever. And you can take that demand and blow it out your ass.”
His eyes gleamed with anger. “Do you think this is a joke?”
“No. I think you are.”
Syn didn’t move. She didn’t move. And it was not sexual tension that kept their faces so close together.
All at once, that headache of hers came back and she groaned as she put a hand up to her temple. “Just leave me alone, okay.”
“You shouldn’t go out there by yourself,” he said remotely.
“What?”
Syn looked away. “This is a fucking mess.”
Before she could give him another push-off, he released her door. “Let me come with you. If you let me… ride along, I’ll tell you everything. Everything.”
Jo crossed her arms over her chest. “How will I know?”
“That I’m with you?”
Like that isn’t going to be obvious? Jo thought.
“That you’re telling me the truth,” she said in a bored tone.
“You have my word.”
Great, for whatever that was worth.
“If you lie to me, I’ll know.” She leveled a stare at him. “I’m a reporter. I’m going to make it my business to find out what’s going on with you one way or another, and if you lie to me tonight? You better never come around me again. You taught me where to best shoot someone, remember?”
“Yes,” he said gravely.
“Good.” Jo wrenched open the driver’s side door. “Because thanks to you, I know how to kill a man.”
And boy, that sounded like a really great idea at the moment.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
So