The Awakening

At least until I figure out what you're hiding.'

As straight-faced as could be, she said, 'I'm not hiding anything.'

'And I'm a saint.'

'Sexual chemistry.' The words felt funny on her lips, sounded imbecilic, but still, they stirred her mental acquisitiveness. 'Explain that.'

'Explain what?'

'This… sexual chemistry stuff. What is it?'

'You're pulling my leg.'

'I can kick your leg if you want. But I'm not pulling on it.'

He scoffed, but not with conviction. 'You're telling me that you don't know what sexual chemistry is?'

She didn't like the implication that she was stupid. 'Fine. Forget it. It's not like I really give a shit anyway.'

He caught her arm, and quickly released her. 'Don't go off in a huff. I didn't mean to insult you. It's just… It's hard to believe a twenty-one-year-old-woman could be so…'

'Stupid?'

'Innocent.'

Gaby blinked at him as she absorbed his accusation, and on the third blink, her eyes narrowed with rage. 'There's nothing innocent about me.'

'Have you ever had sex?'

She didn't really mean to, but she punched him. Right on the chin. And because she hadn't realized her intent, he'd had no way of anticipating it. If he'd had a glass jaw, he'd have been out for the count. As it was, his head snapped to the side and in the same movement, he surged off the bench in a rage.

'Goddamn it, woman. Stop attacking me!'

Impervious to his upset, Gaby didn't stand. She didn't even flinch. She looked at him, at his heaving, his flared nostrils and red face, and the strangest thing happened.

She snickered.

Luther looked ready to shoot sparks out of his head. And that amused her even more.

She patted the bench beside her. 'Sit down, Detective. I promise I won't hit you again. At least, not without provocation.'

He appeared more inclined to choke her, but when she patted the seat again, he dropped down. Jaw jutting forward, he warned, 'I mean it, Gaby. Keep your fists to yourself or we're going to end up at the station.'

'Yeah, yeah. I got it.' Still amused with him, she slanted him a look. 'No, I've never fucked anyone. Truth is, I've never been kissed, either. Other than your big paws, no guy has touched me. So maybe that explains why you bring out my anger. I just don't get you.'

That all hit Luther in an odd way. He went mute. And something, some strange emotion filled with perturbation and energy, emanated from him.

He leaned into her space. 'Never?'

'Nope.'

'Not even a peck?' Skepticism kept his eyes narrowed and his gaze precise. 'Maybe on the cheek?'

'Nope.'

Thoughtful, he sat back, took a drink of his Coke, and after a few nods of understanding—for himself, not her—he zeroed in on her again.

Very intent, he launched into explanation. 'Everyone has… nuances—a way of walking or talking, emoting, that draws other people or repels them. Every so often, you run into the right people—or maybe in your case, just the right person—who reacts to what you have. Whatever it is. Scent. Attitude. Expression.'

He had to be kidding.

'In your case, I think it's all three. Your attitude definitely does it for me.'

'Does it for you?'

'Stirs me. Turns me on.' Expression bordering on helpless, he shook his head. 'At times, I swear, you wreck me, I can't explain it. But I like it.'

'Pervert.'

He laughed. 'Yeah, maybe.'

'All that makes you sound like a damn masochist.'

'Doesn't it though?'

'Everything you said sounds like a bunch of hooey to me.'

'Yeah, well, it sort of did to me, too. I guess it's not something that's easy to explain or decipher.'

'My scent?' Without looking away from him, Gaby turned her head and sniffed at her own shoulder. She detected soap, a little sweat, and that sun-warmed aroma that came from being outdoors for an extended time. 'I don't smell bad, but I'm not exactly a flower, either.'

'Really?' Utilizing great caution, moving very slowly, Luther leaned forward. 'Let me see.'

Gaby's heart did a funny little flip.

By infinitesimal degrees, Luther closed the distance between them until his nose touched her ear.

She heard the rise of his breathing, deeper, richer. He made a small sound that she took as earthy pleasure —and then he jerked away, and said nothing. He swilled the rest of his Coke.

'Well?'

Luther shook his head. He ran both hands through his hair, tugged a little, looked away into the distance. 'Yeah.' He cleared his throat. 'Not too bad, I guess.'

She didn't understand him at all.

'And people think I'm flaky.' When he said nothing more, Gaby looked across the street at two whores strolling along in amicable conversation. 'What about them?'

As if glad of a distraction, Luther focused on the two women in comparable stages of calculated undress. 'They're hookers. What about them?'

'You telling me it's their smell that draws the customers and earns them a living? Because I have to tell you, I've walked past a few of them and they sometimes stink to high heaven.'

He choked on a laugh. 'No, it's not their smell. Sometimes sex is just sex, with nothing else involved.' He paused to ponder his own words. 'Actually, I'd say that's usually all it is. With a business transaction, that'd be the case.'

She eyed him. 'I take it you have experience?'

Appalled, he pulled back. 'Not with hookers, no, thank God.'

He'd grilled her, so Gaby had no qualms about reciprocating. 'With other women who aren't hookers?'

Querulous disapproval stiffened his shoulders and tightened his expression. 'This is an extremely peculiar conversation.'

'You started it.'

His sigh held a note of frustration. 'Fair enough. Yes, I have experience. For Christ's sake, Gaby, I'm thirty- two. It'd be more than odd for me to be a virgin.'

She supposed that made her more than odd.

He must've realized the same. 'I didn't mean… Look… Surely you've learned enough about sex from television and music to know how most men operate.'

'I'd say you were unlike most men.' She could be a master of understatement. 'But it's a moot point anyway. I've never owned a TV and I've never been a fan of music.'

He did another double take. 'You've never owned a television?'

'No. When I lived in foster homes, they had them, but I wasn't exactly invited to curl up with the others at family time.' And it was safer to keep to herself.

Luther sat very still, just looking at her, enrapt. His hand lifted and he touched her hair. In a benign voice laced with tenderness, he whispered, 'You keep cutting little pieces out of me, Gaby, and you don't even need that machete you carry to do it.'

An alien sensation unfurled in her belly. It left her unsettled, even a little shaken. She slapped his hand away. 'Keep your mitts to yourself, cop.'