Saying good-bye and wishing her luck was the decent thing to do.
If she asks me to stay, then I will, he told himself. But if she doesn't ask, then I'm out of here. Simple as that. She doesn't
need me. But if she asks…
He walked into the room and stopped cold. He nearly tripped over his own feet when he saw her. She was standing by the window with her arms folded, waiting for him.
'Why are you glaring at me?' he asked with a defensive scowl of his own.
'I saw you putting your bags in the car,' she said, nodding toward the window. 'Are you leaving, then?' She took a step toward him but stopped when she noticed his back stiffen. 'I would appreciate an answer.'
'Do you want me to stay?'
'Do you want to stay?'
'What kind of an answer is that? I'm not in the mood to play games, Avery.' Then, before she could respond, he squinted at her and asked, 'What happened to your face?'
Her hand went to her cheek. 'What's wrong with my face?'
'Nothing. It just looks… different.'
'I washed it, put on some moisturizer and a little makeup. That's all.'
'Makeup? Why would you do that? Do you want to look nice for your FBI buddies?'
Oh, brother, was he in a mood. 'What's the matter with you?'
He couldn't answer because he couldn't possibly put into words what was going on inside his head right now or how he was feeling. Why he was suddenly itching for a fight was beyond him. He only knew he was furious with her and with himself
because she had been able to do to him what no other woman had done before. She had tied his stomach into knots. What
was worse was that he had let her.
What was next? His heart? The hell with that.
'Have you talked to Agent Knolte yet?'
'No, I was waiting for you to come upstairs. Were you going to leave without saying good-bye?' The big jerk. She would not cry, no matter how angry he made her. She took a breath to steady her resolve, walked across the room, and thrust her hand out. 'Thank you for all you've done.'
He ignored her hand. 'Avery… if you want-'
She interrupted. 'Chief Tyler came upstairs looking for you. He wanted to talk to you, said it was important.'
'I just talked to him not five minutes ago.'
She shrugged. 'He must have something else to say to you. He's waiting in the restaurant.'
'Yeah, all right.'
'Have a safe trip home,' she said. She turned around and walked back to the window. 'Good-bye, John Paul.'
He couldn't believe she was blowing him off. He stared at her back for a minute, then abruptly turned and went downstairs. Her cold farewell had been that of a stranger, and he was too pissed off to try to figure out why her attitude had changed.
Fortunately, he didn't get swamped by agents as he walked through the police station. Knolte and a couple of other young hotshots were studying maps and talking on their cell phones. One agent did try to engage him in conversation, but he ignored him, shoved the swinging door open, and crossed over to the restaurant. The front was deserted, but he could hear whistling coming from the kitchen. He walked behind the red Formica counter and spotted the chief at the grill. The aroma of sizzling meat filled the air.
'You ready to take off?' the chief asked.
'Just about.'
'You want to take a hamburger for the road?'
'No thanks. Where is everyone?'
'My restaurant crew? I sent them home a while back. If Knolte and his friends want something to eat, they can fix it themselves.'
'Did you want to see me about something?'
Tyler frowned. 'I already said what I had to say. I went ahead and put that sheet of directions in your car just in case you change your mind and decide to take me up on my offer to use my cabin. You ought to think about it,' he urged. 'I can't get up there for another month, thanks to my wife's relatives. She informed me last night we have two weddings and a reunion to attend.'
'Yeah, I'll think about it,' he said. 'Thanks for your help, Chief, and for the food and bed.'
'Glad I could help,' Tyler said. He unlocked the back door and stepped into the alley with John Paul.
'You take care of yourself.'
'I will,' he said as he opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. He noticed the folded paper the chief had placed on the
seat next to him and picked it up with the intent of handing it back.
'You sure that little girl's gonna be all right?'
That was the third time the chief had asked him that question. John Paul gave him the same answer. 'She'll be okay.'
He didn't believe that nonsense, not for one second, and he could tell from Tyler's expression, he didn't believe it either.
'I'll be seeing you,' Tyler called, raising the spatula he was holding in farewell.
John Paul put his key in the ignition, dropped the paper on the seat, and then sat there, brooding. His conscience wouldn't quiet down. Avery had made her choice, he reminded himself. Yeah, she had let him know in no uncertain terms that she didn't want
or need him.
There was only one problem with her decision. He wanted and needed her.
He thought he'd gotten rid of his feelings years ago when disillusionment had taken root, but now he realized he'd only been
fooling himself with his hate-everyone, don't-need-anyone attitude and that he was as human and flawed as everyone else.
Who would have thought?
Did he even like Avery? Yeah, he did, he admitted. The woman was a real smart-ass. How could he not like her?
He shook his head and turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred like a well-fed kitten as he put the gear into drive.
God knows he tried, but he couldn't summon up the strength to drive away. Damn it, she was making him nuts. She was just like
a chigger, itching and irritating. She wanted him to leave. Right? Hell, yes. She was sure she was going to be fine and dandy
with that super-duper team watching out for her safety… God help her.
Avery was a fighter, and she could certainly handle anything that came her way. But could she control the actions of the agents assigned to protect her? Could she prevent them from screwing things up? And while she was watching them, who would be watching her?
He put the gear back in park and turned the motor off. What the hell was he going to do?
Let the FBI worry about her. Damn right. That was definitely what he was going to do. He started the motor again, but this
time he didn't get the gearshift into drive. He sat there like a lump of ice, frozen with indecision, while the car idled.
What a game player he was turning out to be. He was now desperately trying to convince himself he didn't care what happened
to her. She made him laugh. She made him want things he thought he could never have.
Hell, she humanized him.
