Or who, rather.
James Keller was a wall of man, wrapped in coveralls. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was watching after the reporter’s retreating back without Rose even remotely blocking his view. There was a plastic shopping bag hanging from one of his wrists, but it did nothing to take away from the sheer amount of intimidation his stance was exuding. His deep voice was just as formidable as he addressed her without looking down.
“Who was that guy?”
Rose momentarily forgot herself. She blinked up at James with an eyebrow clear to her hairline.
“Wait. Why are you here?” she returned instead.
James shook the plastic shopping bag on his wrist.
“I heard you were still in here and thought you might want some food since the cafeteria is going through renovations. I didn’t know what you liked, so I made some sandwiches. Who was that guy?”
He spoke in one, nonchalant breath until he got to the repeat question. He wasn’t happy. It pulled Rose back to her senses. She turned to see the man, but he had already disappeared from view.
“He’s a reporter,” she said. “He tried to get an interview from me earlier this week about the—well, the other thing I went through. I turned him down. I thought he was going to ask me for another interview just now.”
“What’s his name?”
Rose’s brow knitted together.
Once again, she hadn’t learned the man’s name.
If that was a note about her character or his, she didn’t know.
She shrugged.
“If his business card had survived the explosion, I’d tell you.”
James made a noise that sounded vaguely like disapproval. His expression convinced Rose even further of that theory.
“Don’t talk to him anymore,” he rumbled out.
Rose’s cheeks heated at his words. She poked his chest through it.
“Hey, now. Why are you telling me—an independent,smart, and capable woman of the law, by the way—that I can’t talk to someone?”
The poke did its job. His chin, and stare, tilted downward.
Green, brown and gold came together in a stare that fell the foot or so between them and right down into Rose’s upturned gaze. It was only by the grace of God that she kept her expression frozen when he answered her, voice deep and brimming with certainty.
“Because I don’t like him.”
* * *
ROSE TOOK THEturkey and cheese sandwich. James took the peanut butter and jelly. They were eating both twenty minutes later when the doctor gave the all clear for Rose to leave. She made her sandwich disappear almost as fast as she went through the discharge process.
One minute they were eating, the next they were standing outside of the hospital.
Rose stretched her arms out wide and made a show of letting the sun hit her face.
Like James, there was some bruising across her skin. It was faded but there. Though Rose didn’t seem like the kind of person to care much. She shouldered her bag and pulled out her phone with a heavy sigh of relief.
“I would very much like tonotbe back here anytime soon,” she said. “I’m not knocking the service, but I’d rather not see this place for a long, long time.”
James couldn’t see what she was doing on her phone, but he guessed she was trying to arrange a ride. When Mr. Donahue had heard the news that she was still in the hospital, James had been sure that at least one personmight be hovering around her. If only for protection’s sake.
He’d thought it was more than appropriate to check. The food had been an afterthought. One he thought had been unnecessary as he’d walked off the elevator and saw Rose and a man chatting at the vending machines.
