“I’m doing all right.”
Off kilter, I wanted to say.I can’t shake my nervous energy.Who are you, Kobe Haven? What are you doing to me?The man was multifaceted. Boyish at heart, but a stern and intelligent cop while on the clock. A tad mischievous and rebellious, if his stories about Mexico were anything to go by, and now, hearing him croon to a jazz song originally recorded sometime in the fifties, I discovered the essence of an old soul.
Kobe eyed me with the adoring smile that made his dimples pop. His gaze slipped to my chest, and the grin faltered. “Are you going to take off your coat and stay awhile this time? We’ve had two dates where you’ve been ready to run out the door. Maybe it’s time to take a chance on me.”
“Oh.” I glanced down at myself. I hadn’t considered it, but he was right. Date number three. It was time I got comfortable and stopped acting like I was ready to bolt.
I shed my brown leather jacket and set it aside, leaving the space between us unoccupied. Kobe took me in, clamping down on his lower lip as his eyes sparkled with mischief in the candlelight. The inspection was intense and deliberate.
Instantly self-conscious, I tugged my sleeves up my forearms, aiming for casual but failing when it revealed a shimmering coating of sweat. Great. Did he notice? I wore a knitted turtleneck and designer jeans, hoping it was date-worthy. It had been years since I’d had to worry about stuff like this.
“Do I pass inspection?”
Kobe rubbed a hand over his mouth, hiding his grin and shaking his head. “You have no idea how good-looking you are, Doc.”
“I…” Cheeks flaming, I reached for my drink, needing a hit of liquid courage. Hopefully, my embarrassment remained hidden in the low-lit subterranean chamber. “You flatter me.”
“No. I’m honest to a fault. Often to my detriment. Is that a Mortician? I smell campfires, and that gives me an odd craving for hot dogs.”
I chuckled. “It is, and I’m afraid it’s going down far too quickly.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced around. “I don’t see a server. I’ll be back. I’m going to grab a drink from the bar and find menus. I’m starving. Can I get you another?” He indicated my nearly empty glass.
“Um… sure. Thank you.” I didn’t want to wind up inebriated, but my frazzled nerves demanded the buffer.
Kobe returned a short time later with two menus and no drinks. “They’ll deliver them.” When he scooted onto the bench, he moved closer than before, a devilish smirk curving his lips.“Am I allowed to chum up beside you this time? It’s our third date, you know. At some point, I was hoping I’d get to touch you or something.”
“Or something?” Pleasant heat trickled through my veins.
“Objections?”
“None at all.” And I was shocked to realize that the statement was true. I wanted Kobe to touch me.
The musicians moved into another piece I recognized. “Autumn Leaves” by Nat King Cole. Kobe moved his leg until it rested against mine under the table. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “And now?”
“Hm?”
“Still no objections?”
“No.”
“Excellent.” His smile was breathtaking and playful.
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Jazz night was your idea first.”
“But you took the initiative.”
I wanted to again, but my body felt rusty and out of practice, so I grappled for the only topic of conversation we seemed to revisit comfortably. “How’s the case?”
Kobe’s features soured. He shook his head and leaned back, sitting upright as he watched the ensemble. “It’s… shitty. In one breath, it feels like we have a lot to go on, but in reality, we have nothing but hunches and theories. A couple of sketchy people, but no real leads.”
He met my gaze with an expression I’d never seen before dampening his good humor. “Can we talk about something else? I really want to leave work at work tonight and enjoy time with you.”
“Sure.” Except I didn’t know what direction to take, so I grabbed the menu and browsed. “What do you recommend?”
