“Probably not,” I agree. “Not that many Alex Cross’s out there either, single-handedly solving every case they work on.” It’s not until after the words are out of my mouth that it dawns on me that he might think I’m talking about him or take my flippant words like an insult. “I mean, not like on TV anyway. I know crimes are solved every day by real people like you.”
“Yeah, but it’s nothing like in the books or on TV. At least I don’t think it is.” He shrugs. “I’ve never read the books or watched the movies.”
“Not a fan of crime dramas.”
“It’s not that I’m not a fan. I just get enough of it every day. I like to focus on other things when I’m not working, which isn’t very often.” He adds the last part with a wince, as if he doesn’t like admitting the truth.
“I’m sure you could tell from my home screen I’ve been a little obsessed with crime shows and docs,” I admit.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He’s smiling so wide, I know he’s teasing me. “On a serious note, not that I should be telling you what to do, but surrounding yourself with all that garbage isn’t good for you.”
“I know. It’s kind of made me suspicious of pretty much everyone. I have all these weird habits now that probably make other people think I’m crazy.”
“Like what?” He’s not paying much attention to the TV anymore, and I certainly don’t mind.
“Checking my locks on doors and windowswaytoo much, making sure the garage door is fully closed before getting out ofmy locked car. I’ve even thought about getting a gun, but I’m too afraid I’d end up shooting myself.”
“Nothing you mentioned is weird to me. It’s proactive, especially for a woman living alone, and the gun thing… I could help you with that if you wanted.”
“You would do that?”
“For you, absolutely.”
I mull over his words and the way he said them. “I might just take you up on that, Special Agent Landry.”
“I’ll only oblige if you call me Boone.”
“Okay, Boone,” I say softly. I have to look away seconds later when the tension between us morphs yet again to something more palpable.
The movie plays for the next ten minutes, and I finally start to pay attention, because I’m too afraid of getting caught staring at Boone to chance peeking over at him. So many times, I feel like he might be looking at me, but it might be in my head.
Just to give myself something to do, I get up to get a drink and offer him one. “Would you like some water? Sorry, that’s all I have other than coffee.”
“Coffee sounds good, but I know better if I plan to sleep at all tonight. Water works.” He gets up to join me in the kitchen. I thought I would be getting a break from being so close to him and all the thoughts running through my head because of it.
“Ice?” My voice cracks on the question.
“I can get it.” His hand brushes mine as he takes the glass from my fingers. Our eyes lock, and a riot of butterflies erupt in my belly. His eyes slide down to my lips, and I know for certain he’s thinking about kissing me. I stand there, frozen, dying for him to do it and dreading it at the same time. There are so many things wrong with crushing on him. He’s the man I’m hoping will help me solve my sister’s murder. I’m also pretty much abasket case. I know he’ll break my heart, but I still want him to kiss me more than I’ve ever wanted someone to do it.
While all the reasons I shouldn’t be thinking about how his lips would feel against mine are running through my head, I blurt out, “Where do you live?”
Boone blinks a few times, proving I broke the spell between us. “Washington,” he finally says after a heartbeat. When he takes a step backward and looks down at the cup in his hand, I regret opening my mouth. “I… It’s getting pretty late.” The glass makes a chiming sound when he places it on the counter, still empty.
“Yeah,” I agree softly. “Thank you again for talking about this with me.” I’m sad all of a sudden. Part of me is worried I’m never going to speak to him again, and it isn’t the lost chance on my sister’s case that upsets me about that most.
“I’ll keep poking around and see what I turn up,” he adds almost as if it’s an afterthought as he’s putting his shoes on.
“Sure, I’m more than grateful for whatever you can find.”
“I’m in town for a few more days, so I’ll give you a call.”
Something about the way he says it makes me think he’s just softening the blow. I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had I not reminded him we are worlds apart. Would he have kissed me? Would I have kissed him back?Yes, stupid question. Would I have let him do more than kiss me?
He grabs his bag from the floor and heads straight for the door. I admire his silhouette near the darkened entryway. At least I know it’s possible to be attracted to a man again. That’s something positive I can take away from this.
“Lock up behind me,” he says, never once looking over his shoulder as he makes a rather hasty escape out the door and probably out of my life.
CHAPTER 11
