Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [68]
“Still . . . if Buddy needs you ...”
“They can wait for me to take you home.” He held the passenger door open for her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked before hopping inside.
“No.” He slammed the door and went around to the driver’s side.
“Right,” she said as he slid behind the wheel and turned the ignition. “Because you’re not a touchy-feely kind of guy.”
“Damn right.”
“You don’t talk about your dad much.”
“Right.”
“The two of you don’t get along?”
“You could say that.”
“Were you ever close?”
“We used to be.”
“What changed?”
“Life.”
“Yeah, I know how that can happen. I was close to my dad as you know, and right now that’s no longer the case.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? Why?”
“Because you’re an optimist.”
“I’m working on that,” she muttered darkly.
“Don’t. The world needs a few optimists.”
“Why?”
“Someone has to believe things will get better.”
“You don’t believe that?”
“I don’t believe much,” he said.
“You must have seen some miracles along with the awful things.”
“Not lately.”
“How about tonight? That was pretty spectacular.”
“Yeah.” He remembered how she responded to his kisses.
“I was referring to the shooting stars,” she said primly.
“Yeah, me too.” He loved when her voice went all sexy librarian on him.
“I thought you said you were a good liar?”
“I am when I want to be,” he said.
“Then how I do I know when you’re telling the truth?”
“I don’t lie in my private life.”
“You don’t? What about telling my family that Rowdy’s shotgun wedding was just a joke?”
“It was a joke. I can’t believe Rowdy thought they could get away with that.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Okay,” he admitted. “I do lie sometimes.”
“Then how do I know when you’re telling the truth?” she repeated.
“I don’t lie about important stuff.”
“So the fact that you lied about me to my family means I’m not important?”
“No, that came out wrong. Look, can we not talk about this now?”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“Football. I noticed you’re wearing a Bears sweatshirt. I didn’t expect you to be a football fan.”
“Why not?”
“Because you like teacups.”
“So?”
“And vintage clothes. Girly stuff.”
“Girly stuff?” she repeated in disbelief. “Women and girls can be football fans. You can like both football and teacups.”
“Maybe youcan, but not me.”
“So you don’t like football? I’m sorry to hear that.”
He had to smile at her quick comeback. “I like the Bears. I like them better when they win than when they lose.”
“Ah, a fair-weather fan.”
“Hey, they have to earn my respect. It’s not like being a Cubs fan out of loyalty.”
“So you don’t believe in loyalty? I find that hard to believe. From what I understand of cop culture, loyalty is a very strong and very powerful element.”
“That’s different. You’re thinking about your friend’s asshole abusive ex, aren’t you? What happened to him? Did he try to go after his kid? Did he ever try to hassle you to find out where she was?”
“He tried it once.”
Logan felt his blood starting to boil.
“I told my uncle and he took care of it,” she said.
Sensing her unrest, Logan tried to lighten the mood by teasing her. “Did he call in the Swedish mob?”
“He spoke to the mayor and the police commissioner.”
“That’ll work too. But it could have backfired and made him angrier with you.”
“Luckily it didn’t. Her ex got a job with the Houston Police Department, last I heard.”
Logan noted that she still never referred to him by name, a sign that she didn’t trust Logan with any details of the case. It shouldn’t have aggravated him, but it did. Megan should know that she could trust him. She should know that he wasn’t like the bastard who beat up her good friend.
He clammed up after that. Megan returned to talking about the Bears and carried most of the conversational load, which was fine by him. Talking was vastly overrated, in his opinion. He was more a “just the facts, ma’am” kind of guy. That worked for him. Especially since Will’s death.
The department had required him to complete a critical incident debriefing