A pity, a renegade voice in her head whispered.He’s easy on the eyes and easy to talk to as well.As they crossed the parking lot, she cast a side glance toward him, admiring the cut of his jaw and shadow of stubble on his cheeks.Oh, yeah. Very easy on the eyes.
Gritting her back teeth, she shut up that voice fast. Until she knew Abby was safe and happy again, she had no room in her life for distractions. Not her schooling, not side hobbies and certainly not a romantic relationship.
When they reached his vehicle, he opened the passenger door for her, and Pilot hopped in and settled on the seat, panting and content.
She had to crack a grin.
“Sorry, pal,” Cal told Pilot. “The lady gets to ride shotgun tonight.” He pointed to the back seat, and with a chuff of disappointment, Pilot crawled into the back.
She settled in the passenger seat then twisted to pat Pilot’s head. “Thank you, puppers. Who’s a good boy?”
Pilot wagged his tail and moved to the open window to sniff the night air.
As Cal drove her back to the gift shop to pick up her car, he resumed quizzing her, this time about the kind of stuff that might be discussed on a first date. But since this wasn’t a date, she saw no need to give him more than terse, evasive answers.
“Where do your parents live? Do you get back to see them often?”
“No. Mom’s in Portland, last I heard. Dad died.”
“What do you like to do in your free time?”
“What free time?”
“Read any good books lately?”
“If I don’t have free time, when am I supposed to read?”
“Okay. Umm, do you follow any sports teams?”
“Yes.”
He shot her a lopsided grin. “Justyes? Am I supposed to guess which team, which sport?”
“It’s a free country. Guess if you want.”
He seemed to relish the challenge. “Okay then. You lived in Canada for a while. Maybe the hockey bug caught you?” When she said nothing, he said, “No? Okay, baseball? If Mom’s in Portland maybe…the Mariners?”
More silence.
“Although I hear there’s a movement afoot to bring an MLB team to Portland.”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“Huh. Football then? I know a lot of women like football.”
She yawned.
“Am I even close?” he asked, dividing his attention between her and the road.
“You seem to think only men play sports.” She turned a smug look toward him. “What about the WNBA? Or the National Women’s Soccer League?”
“Touché,” he said with a nod. “So women’s basketball and soccer?”
She shrugged. “Not really. Just calling out your sexism.”
He laughed. “My bad. I do know better. Don’t tell my sisters, or I’ll get an earful from them as well.”
She should have told him she doubted she’d ever meet his sisters, but he’d just pulled his Jeep into the gift shop parking lot, so she let it drop.
