She gave him her number and he programmed his phone. “Now input mine.”
She flicked him a glance but punched in his number.
“Are you okay to drive?”
“I’m okay. It was just such a shock.”
“Where do you live?”
“Montlake, over by the university.”
He mentally calculated the best route to take. “I’ll follow you home, then drive you down to the theater later. I gather they aren’t canceling the show.”
“I didn’t think they would. Too much money’s been spent. They’ll put another model in Delilah’s place.” She glanced down, swallowed.
Ethan didn’t reply. He hadn’t thought they’d cancel either. “You ready? I need to get moving.”
Pulling herself together, Val got up from the sofa, stopped on the way out to say good-bye to Sam. Ethan followed her out of the building and walked her to her vehicle, a frisky little red Nissan sports car.
“Nice ride,” he said. When she clicked the locks, he leaned down and pulled open her door.
“Thanks. It was kind of a splurge, but it was worth it.” She slid in behind the wheel. “You don’t have to follow me. I’m okay. Really. I’ll see you down at the theater later.”
“I don’t think you get this, Val. You’re with me until we figure out what’s going on. What’s your address in case we get separated on the road?”
“I really don’t think—”
“I need your address.”
She frowned as she gave him the number of her duplex on East Calhoun. “I have to get ready. I need to—”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Ignoring the unhappy look she cast his way, he walked back to the Jeep and climbed in, reached down, and programmed her address into his GPS.
He’d done everything in his power to avoid the attraction he felt for Valentine Hart—Valerie, he corrected. Now a murder had thrown them together.
As he fell in behind her little red sports car and Val wove her way through the Bellevue traffic, he thought about the woman he had misread so badly. A memory arose of her and Samantha, wet and soapy as they shampooed the big hairy dog. He thought of the dimpled grin on Val’s face.
For the past three years, he’d been nursing his anger, harboring a grudge against women; not just his ex, but women in general.
Watching Samantha—the best thing that had ever happened to Nick, seeing Valerie on her all-important day helping a friend with an injured dog—it was hard to hang on to that anger.
It was past time to let it go and he knew it.
Ethan scrubbed a hand over his face. Since now wasn’t the best time to be examining his life, trying to figure out what it was he really wanted, he needed to focus on his job. He had a theater full of women to protect and a murder to solve.
Which meant he’d have to be even more careful to keep his distance from Valentine Hart.
Val pulled up in front of her garage and opened the door as Ethan parked in front of the duplex, got out of his big black Jeep, and walked toward her.
Why was it he seemed to get better looking every time she saw him? When he smiled, which he didn’t do that often, he was a devastatingly handsome man.
“Wait here,” he said, joining her in the garage. He opened the door into her kitchen and disappeared inside to check things out, returned a few minutes later, and led her into the apartment.
“I’ve got to get over to the crime scene,” he said. “That means you have to come with me. Pull on a dry T-shirt and let’s get going. I’ll bring you back as soon as I’m finished.”
Her hackles went up. “I can’t go running off with you, Ethan. I have to get ready for the show.”
“I thought they were doing hair and makeup at the theater.”
