“Your pal in jail, the bank robber—”
“Ben.” He had a name, just like she did.
“Yeah. He ever talk about revenge? Threaten you in any way?”
“No.No.” She was genuinely horrified she’d given him that impression. “Nothing like that. Ben always says he knows I did my best. Hethanksme. All the time.” His mother wanted her dead, but Ben was grateful.
“For getting him to give himself up.”
“Well, that,” Lauren said. “But mostly I think for the money.”
Jack went very still, a black granite garden sculpture. “What money?”
Crap. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you have to go? I thought you had to take a report.”
“It can wait.” Jack stuck his thumbs into his pockets, watching her. “Do you send that guy money, Lauren?”
“Not him. Well, only a little. If it weren’t for Ben... Okay, that’s a little weird. But if it weren’t for what happened, I wouldn’t have any money. Did you know in prison they don’t even supply you with a full-size bar of soap?”
Jack was silent.
Lauren swallowed. “Mostly, I send it to Ben’s mother,” she offered.
All around them the night pulsed with life, cicadas and tree frogs merrily getting it on in the dark.
Lauren drew a shaky breath. This evening wassonot going as planned. “What are you thinking?” she whispered.
He shot her a dark look. “As a cop? Or as the guy who took you to bed?”
“Are you evernota cop?”
“I wasn’t a cop last night,” he said, and she deflated, her frustration leaking away.
“I’m sorry.” She hung her head. “I just...”Want you. I don’t want to fight.
Jack wrapped his arms around her, his legs bracketing hers, his body solid and warm and right against her. With a sigh, she laid her head on his chest. Gradually, her tension drained away from her muscles and the back of her neck.
“Let’s try this again.” His voice rumbled under her ear. “Hello, Lauren.”
She smiled against his shirt, everything in her softening. Relaxing. “Hello, Jack.”
He caught a strand of her hair between two fingers and pulled it carefully out of her face, stroking it back to blend with the rest of her hair. His hand lingered, cradling her skull against him. “Sorry I have to go.”
She swallowed an unexpected lump in her throat. “Me, too.”
“So, I’ll see you.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Tomorrow.”
She nodded, pushing down her disappointment. Obviously, he couldn’t see her in the dark. But he could feel her head moving against his chest. And she could feel him, his hard man’s body, the muscles of his abdomen. “That would be good.”
“Hell.” He exhaled against her hair. “Tomorrow’s Friday.”
She raised her head. “Is that a problem?”
“Weekend in a resort town, that’s all. It’s a full day. I probably can’t get away until late.”
