“I am better in a fight than he is.”
“I’ll let you guys debate that some time, but for right now, I have an apology to make.”
“You’re really going to apologize to the doctor?”
“Yes.”
“An apology is a sign of weakness.”
“Not if you’re in the wrong, and I was.” I actually got to the door before he interrupted again.
“You were short with him, but not wrong.”
I finally looked at the big guy. “What’s with all the chatter, Otto? Afraid you’ll miss me?”
That did it. He turned and walked away. Bernardo came up to stand next to me like a tall, dark, handsome shadow. I pressed the button to let someone know we needed inside.
“Otto isn’t better in a fight than I am. He’s better with explosives, and he’s got me beat all hollow when it comes to interrogation, but he’s not better in a fight.”
“I didn’t say he was.”
“I just wanted you to know.”
I glanced up at him, that nearly heartbreakingly perfect bone structure. He had his long dark hair pulled back in a braid. With the heat, I was beginning to debate what to do with my hair, too.
“I know you’re good in a fight, Bernardo. Edward doesn’t hang with people who aren’t good.”
We had to press the button again and wait to be let inside. “Then why don’t you like me?”
I gave him a frowning glance. “I don’t dislike you.”
“But you don’t like me either.”
The door opened. It was Dale, with his short brown hair and his glasses. He let us in but wasn’t entirely pleasant. I couldn’t blame him. “You forget something?” he asked.
“An apology to Dr. Memphis. The case is getting to me more than I thought.”
Dale’s face softened. “It’s getting to all of us.” He let us go past and told us where to find Memphis.
I turned to Bernardo. “I don’t not like you.” I wasn’t sure on the grammar, but it said what I meant.
“Okay, then you’re neutral. You don’t like or dislike me; that’s weird.”
“Why is it weird?”
He actually stopped walking to spread his hands and do a voila movement. I realized he was showing himself off. “I’ve had women not like me because I’m too ethnic for them. I’ve had women not like what I do for a living. Some chicks hate the violence. But that’s not it for you. You don’t care about any of that.”
“Are you asking why I don’t think you’re scrumptious?” I couldn’t help smiling.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
I shook my head and fought not to smile more. “I’m not, but I just find this an odd thing in the middle of a murder investigation.”
“I know, business first, and I’d have behaved myself if you hadn’t started getting all sexual tension around the big guy.”
“I am not reacting to Otto,” I said.
He held his hands up, like he was surrendering. “No offense meant.”
“I do not like him like that.”
“I didn’t say you liked him; I said you’re reacting to him.”
“And what’s the difference between liking and reacting?”
“You like Ted, but you don’t react to him. I know you’re getting all cuddly, but it’s to get Otto off your back.”
I gave him a hard look.
“Hey, I won’t spoil it. I agree that it’s creepy that Otto likes you the way he does. I can’t even argue with what you and Ted said at the crime scene.”
“Then what are you bitching about?”
Two women in the little gowns walked by. One stared outright, and the other did a more covert checking out as she walked past us. I might as well have been invisible. Bernardo wasted a smile on them both, then turned back to me as if nothing had happened.
I had a clue. “You’re used to women reacting to you, and I’m not reacting, and that’s bugging you.”
“Yeah, I know it’s shallow as hell, but it’s like you don’t see me, Anita. I’m not used to that.”
“I’m dating or living with six men, Bernardo.”
He gave me raised eyebrows.
“My plate is beyond full, okay? It’s nothing personal.”
“I don’t want to date you, Anita, I just want you to react to me.” He smiled, and it was a good smile. “I mean, sex would be great, but I think Ted would kill me, and that takes a lot of the happy out of it for me.”
“You really think he’d kill you for sleeping with me?”
“He might, and
“So, if I just tell you how beautiful you are, then we can go back to work?”
“If you mean it,” he said, and sounded offended.
“You know, this is usually a girl problem.”
“I’m vain, so sue me.”
I smiled, and it was my turn to hold my hands up. I took a deep breath and made myself look at Bernardo. I started at his face. His eyes were that dark solid brown, almost black, darker even than mine. The hair was shiny and black, and I knew it had blue highlights in the right light. The skin was that nice even dark that only certain genetics can give you. But it was the curve of those perfect cheekbones, the line of that nose that plastic surgeons only gave movie stars after lots of money changed hands, the lips full and wide, kissable. His neck was long and smooth, and I could see his pulse in the side of his neck like something that needed kissing. The broad shoulders under his white shirt were nice, and the chest looked like he’d been hitting the gym; so did the arms. My gaze slid to the slimness of his waist, and then the hips. I let myself linger, and had to admit to myself that the bulge in his pants was distractingly bulgy. I knew that the bulge got bigger because I’d seen him nude once. I knew he was actually so well endowed that even I might find it a bit much, and I didn’t say that about most men.
I forced myself to keep going down the muscular legs in their jeans, to the boots. I came back up to his eyes.
“You’re blushing,” he said, but he was smiling.
“I was remembering that time in the bar.”
He grinned wider, obviously pleased. “Thinking about seeing me naked.”
The blush that had been fading flushed back to life. I nodded and started walking. “Happy now?” I asked.
“Very,” he said, in a voice that showed it. He glided beside me, to the stares of every woman we passed, and some of the men. I would have thought they might be looking at me, but Bernardo was a treat both coming and going. I’m used to being the plain Jane when it comes to the men in my life. If it had bothered me to be less pretty than a man, I could never have dated Jean-Claude… or Asher… or Micah… or Richard, or Nathaniel. Hell, Bernardo made me feel right at home.
21
I APOLOGIZED TO Dr. Memphis and got the name of Sherman’s high priestess. She was in the phone book. We hit the heat outside, sunglasses sliding over our eyes like some sort of science fiction shield. The gesture was already automatic, and I hadn’t been in town a day.
There was music playing, and it took me a few seconds to realize it was my phone. It was playing “I’m Not in Love,” by 10cc, but it was not a ring tone I’d chosen. I was really going to have to learn to do my own ring tones. Nathaniel’s sense of humor was beginning to get on my nerves.
I hit the button and said, “What’s with the choice of songs, Nathaniel?”
“It is not your pussycat,
