told me back in San Antone?”
“I did, and you do.”
They’d hidden in the shelter of her porch, but he needed to get them out of sight as soon as possible. “Just unlock the door, Rose. We need to talk, but not out here.”
She followed his order without comment, her brown eyes uneasy. Once inside the entry, he glanced around the room as if he’d never been there before. “Close the drapes. All of them.”
Again she did as he instructed, returning to the living room to put her hands on her hips. “Let’s have it. Give me the truth right now, or I’m hauling your ass in.”
“For what?” He rubbed his gritty eyes in sudden weariness. If she would let him, he could fall into her bed and sleep until the second coming. Then he realized he probably wouldn’t ever get near that bed again, no matter who might show up. And he wouldn’t sleep if he were in it. “How about something to eat first?”
She picked up the phone on the nearby table and started to punch in a number.
“Wait, please. If you make me a sandwich, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”
She was as easy to read as the gang banger he’d beat last week in a hot game of Under the Gun. She didn’t want anything to do with him, much less feed him.
“God knows you look like you could use a meal.” She spoke slowly, surprising him. “But if you don’t talk…”
“You have my word. You’ll get your answers,” he conceded. Just not all of them. “But you won’t like what I have to say,” he added.
After a puzzled look, she headed for the kitchen. He followed, the cozy atmosphere of the home more disconcerting than he’d expected. He hadn’t lived in a place this nice, this neat, this clean in so long he’d forgotten how to act. Which Rose apparently noticed.
“If you’d like to wash up, the bathroom’s over there.” She arched an eyebrow toward a hallway.
When he stepped inside the spotless lavatory, he almost wished he had turned down her offer. Leaning on the countertop, his hands on either side of the sink, he studied his reflection in the mirror. The man who stared back didn’t look familiar, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because the person he was looking at was exactly who he had become. He’d lost his way somewhere along the line, and that was the least of what was missing…
Rose knocked on the door. “Do you need anything? Extra soap? Towels?”
“I’m fine. Be right there.” He dropped his gaze and pumped out some liquid from a pink container by the sink, slathering his hands then lifting them to his nose. The bubbles smelled sweet and fresh, just like something Rose would pick out at the local Food Basket. He soaped the stubby prickles of his beard and swiped a hand behind his neck. He wished he could shave, but clean-faced bikers were the butt of too many jokes. Bankers and dentists pretending to be riders weren’t welcome inside the real ranks. If the posers knew what they were really flirting with, every mother’s son of them would abandon their duded-up geezer glides and run the other way.
Rose looked at him when he came out. He must have gotten off the first layer of dirt, because she nodded toward the table by the window where a white bowl sat. A contrail of steam drifted above it, the smell already making his mouth water. A glass of iced tea waited as well.
“I had some stew in the refrigerator I needed to get rid of,” she said off-handedly.
Standing beside one of the chairs, he picked up the bowl and shoveled in the food so fast it burned the roof of his mouth. He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in months. They hadn’t been together because of Rose’s talents in the kitchen, but every bite of this tasted like heaven.
She watched in silence until he finished. “Want some more? Maybe you’d like to taste it the second time around?”
He nodded and she refilled the bowl, but as he began to eat again, he thought about why he was there, and the stew didn’t taste as good as it had before. He put down his spoon, set the bowl on the table, and lifted his gaze.
Rose raised an eyebrow. “Lose your appetite?”
“You’ve got a problem,” he said instead of answering her.
“I’ve got more than one.” She tipped her glass of tea in his direction. Her