Mal looked up as if in surprise. “Tree? Your name is Tree?”
The guy had blue eyes, longish blond hair, and capped teeth. Had to be about twenty. Smelled like money even in the plain clothing. “Yeah. I have a natural affinity with the elements. Tree fits.”
All righty. Tree also had dilated pupils and was high on something other than just life. “Mal. Name is Mal.” He focused back on the tempting liquid.
“You look like a guy who needs a friend,” Tree said, accepting his beer.
Mal snorted. “I had to shoot the last guy I called a friend.” He shifted his weight enough that his jacket opened and revealed his gun, this one a Ruger. “You want to leave me alone, Tree.” He downed the rest of his drink and gestured for the bartender to refill him.
The bartender poured and then paused. His hand went below the counter. “You can’t have a gun in a bar.”
Mal stiffened. “I’m licensed. Ex-cop.” He kept his hand away from his gun and drew out his wallet to flash the permit to carry he’d created that morning. “See?”
The bartender relaxed but still frowned. “Even so. Keep that thing hidden.”
Tree cleared his throat.
Mal turned only his head. “Go away, Tree.”
The kid nodded and moved on, heading over to a woman in her fifties downing Fireball like her life had just ended. Her pink suit was disheveled and her mascara had run.
Mal sipped his drink.
Ten minutes later, a perky blonde sat on the stool next to him. “Excuse me. I can’t find my friend, Leslie. Have you seen a pretty redhead? She has my wallet, and I’d like a drink.”
Mal slowly turned. The woman had to be around twenty, with big blue eyes and a nearly see-through shirt. He let himself blink a couple of times. “I haven’t seen a redhead named Leslie. Now or ever.” His gaze ran over what had to be considered very nice breasts. “But I could buy you a drink.”
Her eyes widened. “You could?” She touched his arm, sliding her hand down in a caress. “That would be so nice.”
Wouldn’t it, though? He nodded to the bartender and turned back to the blonde. That quickly, he was in.
Chapter Sixteen
Pippa sat at her computer and finished organizing the travel plans for one of her clients. What would it be like to go anywhere she wanted? To not worry about airport security, cameras, and whether her license would hold up to TSA standards?
The rain had continued all day, and she’d gotten a lot done, trying not to think about Malcolm. When would he get home?
She had never had a night like that and wasn’t sure how to act.
Her phone buzzed, and she lifted it to her ear upon recognizing the number. “Trixie. How are you?”
“Okay. A couple of flashbacks and a nightmare. What about you?” Trixie whispered.
Four orgasms and a flashback actually. “I’m okay. Wondering if it’s time to move on again.” The idea made her chest hurt. There was no future with Malcolm or anybody else, but that didn’t mean she could just up and leave. What if there was a slice in time for them more than just last night? He definitely deserved somebody whole and not nutty for his future. The guy was a hero. But she could be his present. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing.” Trixie lived an hour outside of Minuteville in the other direction. “We stayed away from the cameras, and I’m sure our identities held up. But still, I feel like they’re getting close. You know?”
Pippa bit her lip. She was feeling the same thing, but a good part of her unease was caused by Malcolm. “Yeah. I think we’re safe, though.”
Trixie sighed. “Anything new with the sexy cop?”
“Ex-cop,” Pippa corrected, her body flushing at just the mention. “No.” She wasn’t ready to share.
“I think it’s great you’re able to, well, you know. See a guy and not freak out.” Pain tinged Trixie’s voice.
Ice slid into Pippa’s veins. “Isaac didn’t rape me, Trixie. I was spared.” Tears pricked her eyes. “You have a case against him if you ever want it. I’ll testify on your behalf.” The statute of limitations wasn’t up.
Trixie scoffed. “Like anybody would believe us. And we’d end up in jail, too.”
