Page 36 of In Her Eyes

He unwraps his sandwich, picks up a half, and takes a bite. He groans with satisfaction, and the heat on my face and chest spreads into my belly. I press my lips together to hide my smile. I knew he’d like a BLT.

He opens his water bottle, eyeing my wrapped sandwich. “What did you get?”

Slow down, foolish heart. “I got an ALT.”

“What’s that?” His neck muscles move as he drinks.

“An avocado, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.”

An eyebrow pops up in response. “Never had one of those. Good?”

I take a small bite, chew, and swallow. “Delicious. Want to try some?”

“I’ll stick with the bacon.”

We eat in silence, looking at each other. No small talk to fill the space. I like this comfortable quietness. The heat on my face dissipates as I get used to looking at him with no barriers.

It may have only been a week since I met Jake, but I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years—making up stories in my head for more than half my life. It doesn’t feel like we just met.

He cleans up the wrappers, tosses them into the paper bag, and takes a long drink of water. His eyes find mine. “Can I ask why you’re staying in town for so long? Most people’s vacations are for a week, not a whole summer.”

Is this a curiosity question, or is he digging for information? I hold the urge to scoff at myself. He’s a cop. Of course he’s always digging for more information. But I have nothing to hide. “Lynn’s a teacher, and I make my own hours. For years, since we were in school together, we’ve planned long summer vacations. My grandmother used to drive through New England with my mother when she was little. They used to rent a house at the beach for the summer. I’m sort of retracing their steps. But with my best friend instead.”

He taps his fingers on the desk between us as he absorbs my response. I can almost see his brain working, sliding pieces together like a Rubik’s cube. He leans into the desk. “But you didn’t plan on spending the next two months here?”

“No, we didn’t. As I told you before, we have the apartment for as long as we need. The owners are spending the summer helping their daughter with newborn twins in Colorado.”

He nods, and his gaze drifts to the side. “It’s not fair of me to ask you to change your vacation plans or to stay here indefinitely while I piece together the few clues I have.”

No, it’s not, but I would stay if he asked me. The answer in my head jolts me. Where did that come from? “We haven’t made up our minds about the rest of the summer yet. It’s wide-open. We don’t have anything on our schedule until September.”

The blue-green gaze softens. “I’m very grateful to you for taking a chance and coming to the police station, not knowing what kind of response you’d get. It took guts. And I also owe you an apology for how I behaved when we first met.”

I run my hand through my hair, look down, fidget with the ends, and then face him again. “It’s okay. I get it. It was a lot to take in. And I wasn’t exactly polite either.”

He shakes his head and rests his elbows on the desk. “No, that was all my doing. I was already frustrated with this case. Anyone who walked through my door that day would have gotten the tail end of my exasperation. You didn’t have to come here and give me the necklace. Didn’t have to stay and help me today, either. And I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, but I called you an asshole.”

“You did.” He chuckles, and a corner of his mouth lifts a little. “But I deserved that.”

He looks down again and aligns the already perfectly aligned folders on his desk. Then, looks back at me. “I have a question and a favor to ask.”

Yes. I want to say yes, even though I don’t even know what he wants. Once I read whatever evidence he has, my reason to stay here, to see him again, is over. “Okay . . .”

He scratches the back of his neck, and his shoulders hunch a little. “I know I’ve already asked a lot, and I flip-flopped back and forth between believing you and thinking you’re the best scam artist I’ve ever met.” He winces at the last part.

His candor eases the knots in my stomach, and I smile. It’s easy to read his honesty and discomfort, making him even more alluring. I get a feeling he’s not a man who likes being vulnerable or who shows his hand easily. “Okay, go on.”

“I don’t want to keep bugging you and end your vacation by dragging you into this mess, which I’m sure is the last thing you want, either. But I’d like to ask if I can keep in touch with you and get your input on whatever else I find.”

Disappointment makes a cozy little nest in my chest. I wish he’d want to see me for more than what I can do for him, but the eagerness and urgency in him are centered on his job. “This case is more than just a job for you.”

He jolts back as if my words are a physical blow. His body goes rigid. His eyes are ice-cold, and even if I’m not the cause of whatever is eating him, the force of his gaze makes me want to recoil. Instead, I hold firm and wait. He presses his lips together and nods once.

Perhaps I should be more careful with my words. But if I’m to help him, I need to get past his many defenses. “This is personal, isn’t it?” My voice is soft but not pitying. He’s not a man who would gracefully accept someone feeling sorry for him.

He doesn’t respond this time. His face closes behind a mask of indifference. His eyes harden even more in a silent warning for me to stop asking questions. He’s a picture of contradiction. He wants my help but has a hard time accepting it. And I can tell it has cost him a lot to ask me. I can read all of this in his body, his face, in the energy blasting from him.

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