“I don’t.”
“Then your face is malfunctioning, because I definitely saw an attempt,” Tessa told him in her most serious voice.
Brick’s lips twitched.Barely, but it was there and she definitely saw it.And because she’d already been half-teasing and half-flirting, the sight of that single twitch lit something in her chest.
Warmth.Interest.Attraction that was no longer hypothetical.
He looked down at his plate again like it offended him.“You don’t have to joke with me.”
“I want to,” Tessa insisted.
His fork paused.
There it was again, that stillness she was starting to recognize.Brick wasn’t a man who reacted outwardly, but when something mattered, he went still.Not frozen, just watchful, like she’d hit a pressure point he wasn’t prepared for.
Then Brick lifted his gaze, heavy and focused.“Why?”
She swallowed.“Because you’re always so intense and I thought maybe I could help you relax a little,” Tessa said.
Brick stared like she’d announced she’d discovered how to solve global famine.
“I’m not sure I know how to relax,” he said quietly.
“I can tell.”
His eyes flickered with something like reluctant amusement.Again barely there, but there was a little spark.
She took a sip of orange juice, needing something to do with her hands.“I was going to ask last night, but we were both tense.Your tattoos.”
Brick stiffened instantly.He’d gotten too fast and defensive.Ah, Tessa should back off.
She lifted both palms.“You don’t have to tell me anything.I just noticed them,” she told him lightly, although Tessa couldn’t deny she was curious.
After all, she’d fantasied about taking off his shirt in bed and tracing every hard ridge of muscle on his chest.
He shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable.The collar of his shirt covered the ink at his throat, but she’d glimpsed some at the edge of his sleeve yesterday.Sharp shapes, dark strokes, the suggestion of something meaningful.
“They’re old,” he muttered.
“That doesn’t mean they’re not important,” Tessa pointed out.
“Some of them aren’t for talking about.”
She bit her lip, and Brick’s eyes dropped to the movement before jerking away.
“Okay,” she said gently.
He looked like he expected her to press.Everyone in his life probably pushed him.Demanded and expected things.Tessa had learned professionally, painfully, what pressure did to wounded people.So she didn’t push.
She just sat there, elbows resting on the table, face softening.“Thanks again for last night,” she said lamely.
Brick braced his forearms on the table, hands clasped.“You shouldn’t have been alone.Not with those assholes around.”
“I didn’t expect the Serpents to show up,” she said, voice quiet.“I mean, I’ve been in some dangerous situations before but nothing like that.I help people for a living, and sometimes I expect others to behave rationally because I try to.”
“What you do,” Brick said, tone rough but sincere, “you’re fighting for kids nobody else is paying attention to.”
She blinked, surprised.“You listened.”
