imports?” she interrupted as she doubtfully scanned the garage and attached lot populated by early-model American trucks. Sean’s shoulders tightened at her condescending, know-it-all tone—the one he’d grown to hate in the courtroom.
Frank’s eyes narrowed. “This may be the country, but it ain’t Mayberry. I have all the latest diagnostic software and my suppliers are the same that sell to your mechanic back in Seattle. I know what I’m doing.”
“Of course you do,” Krista said, raising a slender hand. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
Sean wanted to roll his eyes at the way Frank seemed to melt under Krista’s smile. He turned to her with a frown. If she thought she was going to get to him with this new, charming side of her, she was seriously mistaken.
“Did you figure out what was wrong after getting a closer look?” Krista asked. Sean’s ears pricked up at the nervous undercurrent in her voice.
Sean’s eyes glazed over as Frank launched into a litany of possible reasons for the electrical failure and then concluded, “But honestly, it’s almost impossible to tell at this point.”
Was it just him or did Krista breathe a little sigh of relief? It froze in her chest when she caught him looking. “Well, thanks, Frank. I’ll guess I’ll check back in with you Monday.”
“Guess I’m stuck here,” Krista said as they walked down the street. Though she was fairly tall—Sean would guess about five seven or five eight, and those damn legs of hers started somewhere up around her armpits—she had to practically run to keep up with him as he rushed to Wendy Trager’s bed-and-breakfast.
“Do you know how much this woman charges? It’s not going to be really expensive, is it?” Krista said, slightly breathless in a way that filled Sean’s head with all kinds of ways he could make her breathe fast.
He shook the images out of his head. “You’re a lawyer. I thought you’d be rolling in it.”
She gave a snort. “I work for the government and it’s a recession. They spent more to keep you alive on death row than they pay me.”
He almost tripped over his own feet as he shot her a startled look. There it was again, that flash of inappropriate under that perfectly buttoned-up surface.
“I’m sorry,” she said, clapping her hand to her mouth. “That was totally out of line.”
“It’s okay,” he said, stifling a chuckle.
It should have offended him, just as her making fun of his diagnosis should have offended him. But the fact that she blurted it out without a thought, like her internal editor went out for a quick smoke, made her seem actually human underneath the controlled professional she showed to the world. Made her appealing.
Likeable, even.
Oh fuck, he didn’t even want to go there. He was startled from his thoughts as his shoulder slammed into someone who let out a loud grunt on impact. “Excuse me,” Sean said. He looked up and registered two men, dressed similarly to him in plaid flannel shirts, boots, and jeans. But there was something about them, the flat look in the eyes of the blond guy in particular, that made Sean’s neck prickle as they walked by.
He looked at them over his shoulder, but they didn’t look back as they continued down the street.
“What?” Krista said.
Sean shook his head. “Nothing.” But the prickle wouldn’t go away, that nagging sense that the enemy was close, crouched behind the next rock waiting to take him out. He kept his eye on the two men until they rounded the corner and he shook his head.
He was just paranoid, he told himself. That’s what happened when your best friend betrayed you and everyone who knows you is willing to believe you’re a monster.
And the woman next to him, the one he couldn’t seem to block out, had her own part to play in that. Sean seized on that resentment, shoving away any feelings of attraction or, God forbid, affection as he reached for the door of the B&B.
And found it locked. He knocked
Frank’s eyes narrowed. “This may be the country, but it ain’t Mayberry. I have all the latest diagnostic software and my suppliers are the same that sell to your mechanic back in Seattle. I know what I’m doing.”
“Of course you do,” Krista said, raising a slender hand. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
Sean wanted to roll his eyes at the way Frank seemed to melt under Krista’s smile. He turned to her with a frown. If she thought she was going to get to him with this new, charming side of her, she was seriously mistaken.
“Did you figure out what was wrong after getting a closer look?” Krista asked. Sean’s ears pricked up at the nervous undercurrent in her voice.
Sean’s eyes glazed over as Frank launched into a litany of possible reasons for the electrical failure and then concluded, “But honestly, it’s almost impossible to tell at this point.”
Was it just him or did Krista breathe a little sigh of relief? It froze in her chest when she caught him looking. “Well, thanks, Frank. I’ll guess I’ll check back in with you Monday.”
“Guess I’m stuck here,” Krista said as they walked down the street. Though she was fairly tall—Sean would guess about five seven or five eight, and those damn legs of hers started somewhere up around her armpits—she had to practically run to keep up with him as he rushed to Wendy Trager’s bed-and-breakfast.
“Do you know how much this woman charges? It’s not going to be really expensive, is it?” Krista said, slightly breathless in a way that filled Sean’s head with all kinds of ways he could make her breathe fast.
He shook the images out of his head. “You’re a lawyer. I thought you’d be rolling in it.”
She gave a snort. “I work for the government and it’s a recession. They spent more to keep you alive on death row than they pay me.”
He almost tripped over his own feet as he shot her a startled look. There it was again, that flash of inappropriate under that perfectly buttoned-up surface.
“I’m sorry,” she said, clapping her hand to her mouth. “That was totally out of line.”
“It’s okay,” he said, stifling a chuckle.
It should have offended him, just as her making fun of his diagnosis should have offended him. But the fact that she blurted it out without a thought, like her internal editor went out for a quick smoke, made her seem actually human underneath the controlled professional she showed to the world. Made her appealing.
Likeable, even.
Oh fuck, he didn’t even want to go there. He was startled from his thoughts as his shoulder slammed into someone who let out a loud grunt on impact. “Excuse me,” Sean said. He looked up and registered two men, dressed similarly to him in plaid flannel shirts, boots, and jeans. But there was something about them, the flat look in the eyes of the blond guy in particular, that made Sean’s neck prickle as they walked by.
He looked at them over his shoulder, but they didn’t look back as they continued down the street.
“What?” Krista said.
Sean shook his head. “Nothing.” But the prickle wouldn’t go away, that nagging sense that the enemy was close, crouched behind the next rock waiting to take him out. He kept his eye on the two men until they rounded the corner and he shook his head.
He was just paranoid, he told himself. That’s what happened when your best friend betrayed you and everyone who knows you is willing to believe you’re a monster.
And the woman next to him, the one he couldn’t seem to block out, had her own part to play in that. Sean seized on that resentment, shoving away any feelings of attraction or, God forbid, affection as he reached for the door of the B&B.
And found it locked. He knocked
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