Chance turned his head, and in the sunlight angling through the window, his eyes looked inexpressibly weary. “Thanks.”
I tried to smile. “You’re welcome.”
Jesus, I didn’t know what to do with this Chance. He frightened me with his intensity. Once, I’d believed he was all cool calculation, but I was starting to think that maybe he’d hidden a lot of what he felt. I just didn’t know why.
“Nothing in the world is like I thought it was.” He paused before adding quietly, “Not even you.”
I put the car in gear without responding. Just what did he expect from me? As I saw it, by accompanying him to Laredo, I’d already gone above and beyond the call as an ex. That was for his mother, though, and I suppose he knew it.
Instead of taking the opportunity to rehash our relationship, I said, “We should put Eva on researching Southern Sanitation. Find out who owns it and, if possible, the parent company. The trail has to lead somewhere.”
My brisk tone woke a similar response. “Good idea. We’ll get on that as soon as we get back to the house. What would you like to do for dinner tonight?”
Uh-oh.
“I already have plans.” I made a left onto highway 59, heading away from the city and toward Chuch’s house. “In fact I was hoping to borrow the car.”
“What plans?”
Here it comes.
“I’m having dinner with Jesse Saldana.”
“The cop. You’re really going to dinner with the cop who won’t let us look at my mom’s purse, the purse we’ll probably need to bribe someone for you to handle?” His voice sounded tight, but I didn’t risk a look at him.
There was a special circle in hell reserved for me. I should tell him the truth; I knew Saldana only wanted to talk about my gift.
“Like I said before, maybe I can change his mind.”
“You sure this is a good idea? How do you know we can trust him?”
“I don’t.” After turning into the driveway, I put the car in park. Angled my body to face Chance. I hated that he looked so good in the late afternoon sunshine. “There is no us. I’m doing this for me.”
He flinched as he climbed out of the Camry. I wanted to think it was his back, but I knew better. “You’re right. Of course you can borrow the car. Just be careful. I’ll talk to Eva about Southern Sanitation so you can get ready.”
Why did I wind up feeling like I’d kicked a puppy anytime I tried to put some distance between us? I am not still half in love with him.
It didn’t help that whenever he got that look in his eyes, I wanted to brush the dark hair away from his forehead. I wanted to press my cheek against his and let him lean on me. Shit, who was I kidding? Even with his back torn up I wanted to take him to bed and make him forget about his troubles for an hour or two.
Instead I went inside and got ready for my “date.”
More than One Way to Skin a Potato
To annoy Chance, I spent more time getting ready than I needed to and headed out smelling of frangipani.
I’d borrowed Chuch’s computer long enough to print out a map to Logan’s Roadhouse, so I just needed to follow it. All the way back to town, my conscience jabbed me. I could have told Chance why I was going. I didn’t know why I hadn’t, except I wanted to keep this part of my life separate from him. Disastrous things happened when I let myself get too wrapped up in him.
Typical of its kind, the restaurant possessed lots of heavy wood and neon, metal buckets of peanuts for people to munch on and then throw the shells on the floor. I supposed it added to atmosphere but I wouldn’t want to be the one sweeping up at the end of the night. I got a booth near the bar and waited.
The waitress, whose name tag read Betsy, beamed a gigawatt smile at me. I decided she must’ve had her teeth capped recently. “Evenin’. Are you waiting for more?”
Well, I’d told the hostess somebody would be joining me, so, “Yes.”
I hate repeating myself.
“Well, then. I’ll get you started and then let you be. We have loaded baked potato soup and chili tonight, hon. You want a drink? Maybe start with some nachos or some Texas onion petals? Some potato skins?”
“Diet Coke with lime, please.” I must admit, it was a little strange to order in English. I didn’t know what Saldana would want, but the skins sounded good. “And potato skins to start. We’ll order after he gets here.”
She made a few notes and wove through the crowd, looking like every other server in her Logan’s shirt and jeans. I wished I could have a something with tequila in it but I was my own designated driver, dammit. One plus about such a noisy place: nobody would overhear us. The waitress brought my Diet Coke and, later, the potato skins. Still no cop, though.
“You sure you don’t want to order?”
I shook my head. Betsy just thought I didn’t notice the pitying look she slid my way as she headed back to the kitchen.
Nerves jangling, I fiddled with the pail of peanuts until Saldana arrived, a full half hour after the appointed time. He slid into the booth opposite me, offering a smile. “Sorry I’m late. Work stuff.”
“It’s all right.” But I’d begun to wonder if he would show.
“Jesse,” the waitress said with evident delight. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to keep a lady waiting?” She flirted shamelessly.
If he really was my date, I’d be pissed. Since he wasn’t, I sat back with a smirk and let him deal with Betsy. I helped myself to another potato skin while he ordered an iced tea.