“Do you have one of those?”
“Hell no.”
He didn’t say anything, just gave an appraising nod and turned his attention back to the road.
“Do you think I need one?”
“Far be it from me to say,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not.
“Is that a northern equivalent of Bless Your Heart?”
He laughed. “That’s how you southern girls say fuck you, right?”
She fluttered her eyelashes and lifted her shoulders delicately. “Perhaps. It can mean a lot of things.”
This time his nod was slower, more appreciative, and it took him longer to glance back to the road. “Ah. I see it now.”
“What?”
“This is how you charm people.”
“You think I’m charming?”
“I think you’re something.” He turned up the volume again, finding a reasonable level where conversation would still be possible—just no longer necessary.
“And that’s how you charm people, isn’t it?”
His eyebrows lifted, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. She turned in her seat and studied his profile.
“It is. This no-nonsense persona…this is your shtick.”
“I don’t have a shtick.”
She blew a raspberry. “Everyone does. There’s your real self, deep down inside, that only you know. Then there’s your side that you show to your friends and family. Everyone else? Unless you’re completely gullible, you show everyone else a persona. Limited, carefully constructed…what you want them to see. And I doubt that a cop is gullible. Ergo…this is your persona.”
He glanced at her quickly, then back to the road. “So you’re a cynic as well as a fatalist.”
“And you’re very good at changing the subject.”
He shrugged. “Okay. I accept your hypothesis. We all have masks we wear. Tell me about yours?”
She snorted and leaned forward, turning up the radio another notch. “Maybe another time,” she muttered as Kenny Chesney started singing.
— —
Liana hadthis little habit Dean had already noticed—she made a conscious effort to relax her facial muscles. They were nearly at the airport now, and her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep.
She was way too tense to be asleep—everywhere except her face. She held her body stiffly, but every few minutes she lifted and then relaxed her facial muscles.
Eyebrows up, relax.
A delicate yawn that looked like a cover for stretching her cheeks, relax.
She even rolled her chin, and once when he was pretty sure her eyes were going to stay closed for a bit, he tried to mimic it.
Made himself laugh in the process.
God, she was so high-maintenance. What the hell was he getting himself into?
