Baz pulled out one of the barstools for her. “Feel any better? Can I get you anything?”
“Maybe some coffee,” she said softly.
“Comin’ right up.”
He retrieved the pot, pausing the brew long enough to pour her a cup. When he took it to her, he found JJ staring at the iPad screen.
“I was tryin’ to retrace Dante’s steps,” Baz explained. “Seein’ if I can figure out where he’s been. Thought it might tell me where he is now.”
JJ nodded as though she’d expected as much.
He was surprised when she didn’t take over his tablet, instead resting her elbows on the island, her hands wrapped firmly around the coffee mug.
“JJ?”
“Hmm?” She looked up at him as though seeing him for the first time.
“Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”
She was staring at him, her eyes shifting over his face.
“JJ?”
“Why do you smell like perfume?”
Baz nearly dropped his own coffee, the question catching him completely off guard. “I … uh…”
JJ’s expression remained stony. “Were you with someone last night, Baz?”
The question was so direct—likely her intention—that he couldn’t skirt it. He would’ve given anything to take back what had happened last night, but Baz knew he couldn’t. Which meant he had to own up to his mistakes even if he knew it would destroy any remaining hope that they could patch things up between them.
“Yes.” He glanced down at his coffee mug. “I was.”
When she didn’t respond, Baz forced his gaze up. She was still watching him, disappointment and what looked a hell of a lot like hurt in her eyes.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, JJ.”
He started to move toward her, but she sat up straight, holding her hand up.
“Don’t.”
Baz didn’t move from there. “JJ, let me explain.”
“No.” She shook her head, wincing when she did. “I don’t want to hear about it. You’re entitled to live your life, Baz, and I’m happy for you. But I…” She swallowed, holding his gaze. “I can’t handle the details.”
He found himself nodding in agreement. Not that he’d intended to give her details, but he did want to tell her why it had happened. It wouldn’t change anything, but maybe it would help if she understood.
Then again, anything he said would sound like an excuse.
JJ gripped her mug again. “I keep replayin’ last night. Seein’ Dante…”
Looked as though they’d moved on.
Her eyes scanned his face. “He was actin’ so weird. Anxious. Paranoid.”
Although he would’ve preferred to clear the air between them, Baz knew this was more important. “But he didn’t say anything?”
“He was freaked when I got there. Nearly knocked me down when we got inside.” She slid her hands over her coffee mug as though the ceramic might warm them. “First thing he asked me was if I had my gun. I told him it was locked in the safe. He insisted I get it.” She looked up. “I should’ve demanded he talk to me. Instead I was stallin’, makin’ coffee. I wasn’t ready to hear more of his crap. If I would’ve made him tell me what he was scared of, maybe…” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can ever go back there. I don’t think I’ll ever not see blood everywhere.”
