Page 66 of Crossing Paths
Dash looked at John again, assessing him for a long moment before finally saying, “That’s fine.”
“Sorry to hear about what happened to your place,” John said. Some of the tension eased from his posture, making Norah think Dash had passed the initial meeting.
“Thanks.” Dash shifted toward Norah, so close their bare arms brushed. “Just glad no one got seriously hurt.”
She frowned up at him, reminded that he’d nearly had his head bashed in. “Youwere hurt pretty seriously. Are you feeling up to running?”
“I’m fine.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “No headache even. How about you? Still sore?”
“Sore from what?” John asked quickly before she couldanswer. “I thought you weren’t injured.”
“I wasn’t hurt. I mean, I’m fine.” She wasn’t sure which question to answer first, so she kind of muddled them together. “Just some strained muscles yesterday.”
Neither man looked satisfied, so Norah was relieved when Molly bounced out the door, distracting them from questioning her further.
“Hey, sweetness.” Molly stood on her toes to kiss John. After an intense moment that was even more charged by the fact that Norah’s arm was touching Dash’s, Molly turned toward them. “Hey, Dash. Good to see you. Thanks for letting us join your run. Whenever Fifi’s not here to boss us, I tend to only run when I’m chasing a skip.”
He just gave her a chin lift, but it was somehow friendlier than the prickly one he’d offered John earlier. “Ready?”
“Just one sec.” Catching Warrant by the collar, Molly steered the reluctant dog back into the house and set the alarm. As she pulled the door shut and locked the dead bolt, John gave an exaggerated frown.
“Warrant can’t come?” he asked.
Dash tipped his head down to murmur, “Your dog’s name is Warrant?”
The feel of his breath on her ear made it hard to focus on his question. Dash had her so flustered and distracted she wasn’t surewhather dog’s name was. Clearing her throat, she made a desperate grab for some rationality. “Yes.”
He smiled, and that hard-won logic was gone, replaced only by the thought of how beautiful the man next to her was whenhe smiled.
“Of course not,” Molly answered John, pulling Norah’s attention away from Dash. “You want to actuallyrun, right? Not slowly amble a few feet with frequent stops for sniffing?”
John looked like the second option didn’t sound so bad. Norah had to agree. She’d take a meandering dog walk over a run any day, but with all the enemies she and her family had acquired recently, running was an essential skill.
They made their way down the steps and across the yard, falling into pairs with Dash and Norah in front of the other two. As they moved toward the trailhead at a slow warm-up pace, Norah glanced at Mr. P’s house and noticed the blinds on one of his windows pushed aside slightly, just enough for her to see his accusing eyes glaring at them. Glancing at the side of Dash’s face, she realized why Mr. P’s stare was more venomous than usual and grimaced.
“What’s wrong?” Dash asked, apparently noticing her reaction even though his gaze had been focused forward.
“Mr. P’s watching.” She resisted the urge to look back at her neighbor’s window.
“Ugh,” Molly groaned. “You know he’s probably on the phone to the cops right now, letting them know he saw Dash with us. He probably has a whole conspiracy theory cooked up already.”
“A conspiracy theory?” John repeated thoughtfully. “Like one where his bounty hunter neighbors dragged an unconscious man to his porch and picked his lock in order to prevent the cops from searching their house again?”
“No,” Molly said. “He’ll think of a far more nefarious reason.He believes we’re the spawn of the devil.”
“Well,” Norah said. “Thatisa reasonable assumption for someone who knows Mom.”
Dash gave her a slightly startled look, but Molly started laughing. “Very true.”
They reached the start of the wide trail and increased their pace slightly before John asked, “How’s the search for Norah’s stalker going?”
She sensed Dash’s tension at the question, almost as if his muscles had swollen an extra two sizes instantly. “Which one?” she asked, which didn’t seem to settle the man on her right.
“How many do you have?” Although John sounded like he was amused, she heard the steel thread of anger in his words.
“Just two?”
“Three,” Dash corrected, his voice growlier than usual.
