Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [74]
“Will was like a brother to me,” Logan said.
“Have you talked to someone about this?”
“I’m talking to you.”
“I meant a professional.”
“Cops don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a good way to get stuck with desk duty.”
“So you’re saying it might be perceived as a sign of weakness.”
“Right,” he said.
“Because a cop would never ask for help. For some backup.”
“This is different.”
“So knowing you wouldn’t ask for help, Buddy and your dad offered you some.”
“They didn’t try to drag me to a shrink or anything. They made me talk about that night.”
“You sound aggravated about that.”
“I am. They ambushed me.”
“They were trying to help you,” she said.
“Yeah, well your dad was trying to help you when he lied to you about your mother.”
“That’s different. Your family wasn’t lying to you. They were making you face the truth.”
“Which is?”
“That you weren’t guilty of causing your partner’s death.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know you.”
“Do you?”
When he glared at her like that, she wasn’t quite as sure. But she knew guilt when she saw it. “Did you shoot him?”
“Of course not.”
She shrugged. “You could have shot him accidentally.”
“I don’t shoot people accidentally.” He’d gone from aggravated to irritated. “Don’t you get it? I sensed something was up and I didn’t take evasive action.”
“You sensed? Like ESP or something?”
He growled.
“I’m just trying to follow what you’re telling me,” she said.
“A civilian wouldn’t understand.”
“What about your dad and Buddy? Did they understand?”
“I don’t know.”
“I thought they staged an intervention. Didn’t you all talk?”
“Yes.”
“And did they make you feel better?”
“This isn’t something that goes away overnight.”
“I don’t imagine it would. It’s something that would stay with you the rest of your life. We’ve done presentations about PTS at the library over the years.”
“And that makes you an expert?”
“No. I’m just saying that I think talking to your dad and Buddy was a good thing. I’m glad they intervened.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like being ambushed.” He headed for the door. “I’ve got to go.”
“What is your problem? Every time you show up, you take off suddenly. I’m starting to think that I’m not the one afraid of our relationship, if you can even call it that. I think you’re more afraid than I am. That’s why you kiss and run.”
“I do not kiss and run.” He turned to glare at her.
“Yes, you do.” She glared right back.
“I didn’t kiss you tonight.”
“And you’re not going to.”
He came closer. “Aren’t I?”
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned him. “If you think you can ignore me for days and then just show up unannounced and kiss your way ...” she sputtered.
“Kiss my way where?”
“Anywhere.” She put her hand out, stopping him in his tracks. “Go home. Get some sleep. And listen to what your dad and grandfather told you.”
“There you go. Being bossy again.”
She grabbed a handful of his shirt, intending to push him away. Instead she yanked him closer and kissed him. She was clearly certifiable. He’d driven her over the edge. She should be booting him out of her condo, not licking his bottom lip and devouring his mouth like a wanton.
He definitely wasn’t protesting. Instead there was a mutual battle for domination as he tried to take over the kiss and she fought to maintain her advantage. Their dueling tongues engaged in an erotic dance as old as time.
What was she doing? Eventually the question seeped through the sensual haze. He was a cop. Used to issuing orders and having them blindly obeyed. Refusal to comply was a punishable offense. Was that why he thought he could take her for granted? Just show up and the mousy librarian would melt at his feet?
She pulled away. Her lips throbbed and the rest of her body wanted more. “Go home,” she repeated.
This time he did.
“The woman is certifiable,” Logan told his brother Connor as they watched a football game awaiting Thanksgiving dinner at their mom’s house. The air