“I think it’s more than just a bad day,” he said.
Della stopped walking and faced him. “Why do you think it’s more?”
“Cut the crap of answering a question with a question. Just talk to me.”
More suspicious than ever, she lifted one hand to her hip. “Did the ghost tell you something?” The moment she posed the question, she wanted to suck the words back into her mouth.
He stared at her. “No. I just … I can read you … it’s part of the bonding, I guess.”
“What do you mean by ‘read’?” Surely he couldn’t know what she was thinking. That would be disastrous.
“I can tell you’re upset by looking at you.”
“How?” she asked.
“I notice little things. Things that I don’t think I’d notice otherwise.”
“What things?”
“First, you’re a tad more of a smartass.” He almost grinned. “And second, your right eyebrow lifts about an eighth of an inch when you’re tense.”
She purposely dropped both her eyebrows.
He chuckled. “Do you find yourself noticing things about me?”
She so wanted to say no, but it would have been a lie and he’d know it. Hadn’t she already noted what the color of his shirt did to his eyes? And the confidence in his gait. And …
“I’ve always been the observant type.” There was some truth in that, too.
The twinkle in his eyes faded. “Seriously,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s personal.” He couldn’t argue with that one. She commenced to walking.
“Wait.” He caught her arm again.
So maybe he could argue.
“Did the ghost give you something? Is that what this is about?”
See, she’d been right about that being a mistake. She pulled away. “Burnett’s waiting on us.”
“We’re early, remember? Damn it, talk to me. If the ghost—”
“I told you, it’s personal.”
“Is it about Steve leaving?” Disappointment rang in his voice, and his eyes grew a bit brighter as if the thought disturbed him.
Her first impulse was to tell him that Steve was none of his business, but perhaps she could use this to get Chase off her back. She tilted up her chin. “And that’s personal.”
He nodded as if satisfied that was all she’d been worried about. “Fine, but if you need to talk, I’ll listen.”
She could tell he didn’t really want to hear her whine about Steve, but his offer came off sincere.
“Yeah, like that’ll happen,” she said.
“There goes the smartass attitude again.”
“But I’m so good at it,” she countered, half teasing.
“That you are.” He smiled.
His smile, genuine and sexy, caught her off guard and she stared at it a fraction of a second longer than she should have. He noticed, too. She could tell by the way his gaze—soft and alluring—shifted slowly to her eyes.
Pushing the thought away, she tightened her spine. “What did you need to see me about before we talk to Burnett?”
He stopped walking and pulled a twig off a tree that lined the path. “I want to ask for a later curfew. If we’re going to hang out by the funeral home and see if we can run into anyone who knows anything about Liam, we might need to be there a while. But if you think Burnett will say no, then maybe we should follow the theory that it’s better to say you’re sorry than to ask for permission.”
She made a face. “Burnett doesn’t like that theory.”
“Fine, we’ll ask.”
“Is that how you work with the Vampire Council?” She grabbed the opportunity to move the conversation toward the council.
He made a get-real face. “The Vampire Council doesn’t micromanage like Burnett. You’d think you were his daughter.”
“So they don’t care about you.”
“They care, they just trust me to get the job done without overseeing every little detail.”
She started walking again. “I imagine when I’m a full-fledge agent, instead of just a junior part-timer, it will be the same.” She couldn’t stop herself from defending Burnett, but then added, “But I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
When he didn’t respond, she looked at him. “When do you suppose that will be?”
“When what will be?” he asked, and she recognized her own tactic of answering a question with a question.
“Now who’s doing it?” she asked. He feigned innocence. “Meeting the Vampire Council,” she answered directly. “When is it going to happen?”
“I wasn’t aware that was set in motion.”
“Oh, I just assumed since they had a hand in our work, I’d meet them just like you’ve met with Burnett.”
“I could look into it,” he said. “But I have a feeling Burnett wouldn’t approve.”
“What Burnett doesn’t know won’t kill him,” she answered.
“But you want to ask him about moving your curfew. How does that make sense?”
“He’d know I stayed out late,” she said, pointing out the difference. “He doesn’t have to know—”
“I still think he’ll have a shit fit about me keeping you out late and he’s going to say no.”