She gave the couple a shy smile as Clark led her into the auditorium.
Detective Marquez grinned at them as they sat down.
“You’re alone?” Clark asked, surprised.
“I can’t get girls.” Marquez shrugged. “Once they see the gun—” he indicated his shoulder holster “—and they realize that I carry it all the time, they usually leave skid marks getting out of my life. But it’s okay,” he said pleasantly. “I always wanted to spend my whole life alone with no kids or grandkids.”
Clark and Keely burst out laughing.
He just grinned.
* * *
All through the ballet, which was beautiful and riveting, Keely was aware of Boone’s dark eyes watching her. She hated the feelings she couldn’t help, because she knew what he really thought of her. It was humiliating that she couldn’t wish them away.
When the performance was over, Boone stopped Clark, Keely and the bodyguard at the front door.
“We’re stopping by Chaco’s Bar and Grill for a nightcap. Why don’t you join us? Your bodyguard is welcome to come in, too.”
“I don’t drink on the job,” Jarrett said unapologetically. “But thanks.”
“We should probably start toward home,” Clark began, knowing Keely’s reluctance to be around Boone.
“Just a nightcap,” Boone said, and he had that expression that meant he was going to get his own way come hell or high water.
“Well, all right,” Clark gave in, as he always did. He grimaced, because he’d had a glimpse of Keely’s face when he agreed.
“We won’t stay long,” Boone promised.
He and Misty started toward his sports car. It was parked next to Clark’s. Misty was complaining loudly about the intrusion on their privacy. Keely felt like doing the same. She didn’t want a nightcap, especially with Boone.
But they ended up at the bar anyway. Keely ordered a soft drink. Misty glared at her while she ordered a whiskey sour with a smirk, as if she thought Keely was putting on some sort of Puritan act.
“Marquez would approve,” Clark said gently when Keely was served. “You’re not legal, yet.”
“What?” Misty asked.
“You have to be twenty-one to have a drink in a bar,” Clark said carelessly.
She frowned. “You’re not even twenty-one?” she asked Keely.
“I’ll be twenty on Christmas Eve, in four months,” Keely said without looking at her.
Misty was irritable, and it showed. She sipped her drink and ignored Keely.
Boone didn’t. He seemed restless. When Misty excused herself to go to the ladies’ room—with obvious reluctance—and Clark decided to go, too, Keely was left alone with Boone.
She couldn’t force herself to look at him. She sipped her soda with both hands wrapped around the glass and stared toward the bar.
“You haven’t said a word to me all night,” he said unexpectedly. “And you haven’t looked at me once.”
Keely did, then, and her eyes were blazing. “I didn’t want it to seem as if I were chasing you,” she told him coldly. “I understand that I threw myself at you at the charity dance and it offended you.”
His jaw tautened. He looked away, as if the comment embarrassed him. “There are things going on that you don’t know about. You shouldn’t be wandering around the state with Clark.”
“I’m as safe with him as I would be at home,” she said. “Clark is a wonderful man. I’m very lucky that your private detective turned him off Nellie. Apparently,” she added with a meaningful smile, “I’m more to his taste than she is.”
His scowl was intimidating. But before he could speak, Misty was back. She swept into her chair and leaned against Boone’s shoulder to distract him. Clark and Keely were stiff and uncomfortable, and they barely managed to remain civil for the time it took them to finish their drinks.
