He considered her, and she suddenly got the impression that he was choosing his words with care so as not to spook her.“What is it, exactly, that you think I’m asking?”
“I, ah…” She clutched her little notebook to her chest, painfully aware that the handful of diners in the place were blatantly eavesdropping.“I don’t know.”
He lowered his voice to the point where she had to inch closer to hear him clearly.“Let me show you.”
And, suddenly, she wanted to do exactly that.Sloan found herself nodding even though every instinct she had said that Jude was trouble in the worst way.But, whatever he was, he was vitally different from her brothers and father back home.He might seem brutal and dangerous and intense to a criminal degree, but this wasn’t Boston.This was Callaway Rock.No matter how dangerous he seemed, odds were that he wasn’t a man who had skeletons in his closet—literal or otherwise.
That made him safe in a way none of the men she’d ever known were.
Jude’s gaze sharpened.“That’s a yes.”
“That’s a yes.”Her voice was too breathy, too irregular to pass for anything other than nerves, but she didn’t care.If she fell flat on her face, at least she wasliving.
Get control of yourself.
She cleared her throat.“Can I get you something?”
“You.”He drummed his fingers on the table, ignoring her jaw dropping.“In the meantime, some coffee to go would be great.”
Did he…He didn’t…Hedid.
Sloan walked back to the kitchen in a cloud of white noise.She’d never been talked to like that.She wasn’t even sure it could be considered flirting, because he wasn’t feeling her out in any manner—he was talking to her like their being together was already predetermined.
Like she was a sure thing.
She wasn’t certain he was wrong.
***
Jude knew he’d crossed the line with Sloan, but there was something about the woman that drove him to it.He couldn’t help pushing, poking, prodding her into a corner just to see how she’d react.The interest that had flared in her eyes at his blatant invitation had been reward enough.
Kind of like the dazed look on her face when he told herexactlywhat he wanted.
Well, not exactly.He could have gone into explicit detail about every single thing he planned on doing to her body, but she’d already been half a second from freezing up or bolting.
You’re supposed to be pumping her for information.Not pumping…
He shut the thought down as she scurried back to him, a coffee mug and pot in her hands.Marge was an old battle-ax who used to have no problem sending people down to the beach with paper coffee cups, but the second those things started showing up in the sand and ocean, she drew the line.So she allowed ceramic mugs to travel outside the diner, and people sure as shit brought them back when the alternative was to be eighty-sixed out of the only decent place to eat without leaving Callaway Rock.
He waited for Sloan to pour the steaming hot liquid before he spoke again.“What time are you off?”
“Three.”
“Good.”
She started to say something, seemed to reconsider, and then hurried away, her head down and shoulders bowed.He’d take it personally, but she seemed to default to that body language when she wasn’t paying attention.The few times he’d seen her straighten and stride forward with purpose, it had very obviously been something she’d made herself do.Once again, he caught himself wondering what the hell her story was.
And who had hurt her.
Jude made an effort to unclench his hands.That was the crux of it—someone had hurt her.People didn’t walk around trying to squeeze themselves into as little space as possible without a damn good reason—without conditioning to do exactly that.He rubbed a hand over his chin, considering what he could find out about her.Sloan wasn’t a very common name, and adding in her likely connection to the Sheridans would narrow the search further.He could tap a couple of his sources and see what shook out.
Or he could wait and talk to her and see if she told him anything.
He almost smiled.Giving people the benefit of the doubt wasn’t what he did.If his family’s history had taught him anything, it was that if left to their own devices, people would barely wait for a person to turn around before stabbing them in the back.It was smarter to go into any situation, whether it was a date or a confrontation, with all the cards and a plan for every contingency.Jude pushed to his feet and headed for the door.
He almost made it, too.
Jerry Steinback, town mayor and all-around pain in the ass, appeared as if out of thin air, a wide smile on his face showing off too-white teeth.Everything about him was trying a little too much.Skin too tanned to come from Oregon summers, hair too perfectly combed, clothes always impeccably pressed as if he’d just put them on.There was nothing overtly wrong about him, though, other than his making it his personal mission to find out Jude’s story.He held out a hand.“Nice to see you in town.”
