Page 38 of Nora
He shook his head at that question and quickly left the room. After making sure the door was locked, he jogged back down the stairs and to her car. Twenty minutes later, he pulled into a small car park along the side of the road near the turnout to the monastery. She’d somehow managed to get his number—probably from Violetta—and had texted him directions.
He was sending her a text, letting her know he’d arrived, when she came walking out of the woods alongside a tall man. Averytall man. Two officers trailed behind them, but Lucian couldn’t take his eyes off Nora and the man who had to be Detective Ben Miller.
The detective leaned down as he and Nora spoke. Nora nodded at something he said, then glanced up. She gave Lucian a little smile and a wave but remained beside the detective as they finished their conversation. A few minutes later, she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Detective Miller, I take it?” he asked, as she buckled up.
Nora nodded. “He’s a good cop. He’s having a hard time letting me be a part of this, but he wants it solved.”
“You don’t have to defend him if he’s being a dick,” Lucian pointed out.
Nora slid him a flat look. “He’s not being a dick. He’s trying to understand why the Feds would have sent me here. He’s smart enough to know they wouldn’t have if they hadn’t suspected something like this would happen. It’s pissing him off that no one bothered to tell him. That no one isbotheringto tell him.”
“Fine, as long as he’s not being a dick to you, then I don’t care.”
Nora snorted. “Given that you’ve been a dick to me more often than not this week, are you the pot or the kettle?”
He grunted but didn’t answer. He did owe her another apology. “I should have brought you some coffee. Want to stop on the way back?” Okay, so not an apology. But maybe he could start with an olive branch. Although between the events of last night and this morning, they’d both sort of extended those already.
“Andrew told me about a coffee shop a couple of miles from the entrance to the facilities. He said the coffee and breakfast sandwiches are great. And quick,” she added with a pointed look at the clock. It was close to eight, and the morning session started at eight-thirty.
“Andrew? Your running buddy?” He knew perfectly well who Andrew was, but he wanted to see if he could get a sense from Nora how she felt about the young man. She’d packed that dress and lingerie before meeting him, but maybe she’d packed it in case an opportunity presented itself?
“He’s one of them,” she said. “There are six that run together in the morning. Eight including me and Willa.”
“You going to wear that dress for him?” He shouldn’t have asked. For so many reasons he shouldn’t have asked. He didn’t really want to know if she’d say yes. But more to the point, he’d made her uncomfortable. Or at least that’s what he assumed, since she was turning an interesting shade of pink.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Forget I asked. It was just right there next to your purse. I didn’t go hunting around.”
She didn’t respond, and he started to second-guess himself. Years ago, he would have teased her about it. He would have made her smile, and he would have told her she’d look amazing in it. And she would. But now, instead of making her feel like she would rock that dress and lingerie, he’d made her uncomfortable.
They rode in silence until she directed him to the coffee shop located in one of the many strip malls in the area. It wasn’t until they were standing in line to order that she finally spoke.
“I have two nights off during the program. One of them is for a date I have in Boston on Saturday night,” she said, her voice quiet.
He should say something supportive. He should tell her that he hoped she had fun. He’d be lying, but he should say it anyway. “You couldn’t reschedule?” he asked instead.
She didn’t meet his eye as she shook her head. “He’s a friend of the family. He’s only in Boston for a night before he heads to New York, then back to Jordan.”
He blinked at that. He understood her family wanting to set her up. But was she really interested in dating a man who lived in Jordan? Granted, her family lived there, too, but herlifewas here in the US.
She stepped up to the counter and placed her order. He followed, then paid for both. When they were standing off to the side, waiting for their food and drink, he asked, “Would you really date a man who lives six thousand miles away? Why not look for someone closer?” A little pitch of his stomach told him he didn’t like that idea, either.
She rolled her eyes and finally met his gaze. “You ask as if I haven’t tried. Do you know how many dates I’ve been on in the last nine months?”
He shook his head.
She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, me neither. Too many to count.”
“What is wrong with the men in the United States?” he asked, sincerely confused.Hewasn’t looking for a relationship, but he could see the kind of woman Nora was—smart, kind, funny, and yes, attractive. Very attractive. He was indignant on her behalf that the men in her life didn’t seem to see the woman she was.
Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe they did see, but she was being picky. She had every right to be. She had a lot to offer a relationship. She should expect the same from a partner.
And why was he thinking all these things?
The man behind the counter called his name, giving him an excuse to think about something else. They grabbed their coffees and breakfast sandwiches, then headed to her car. He wasn’t much of a breakfast sandwich kind of person—it was a very American concept—but he'd already had a long morning, and he wouldn’t eat again until lunch.
“What did we find?” he asked when he was behind the wheel again.
