Angie sat back and smiled as she put her fork down. “That was really good. I ate too much.”
“I’m impressed, actually. Most women pick at their food on a date. At least that’s been my experience.” He liked that she ate something besides salad. She had last night too.
“I guess this is a date, isn’t it? And as for picking at dinner, no way in hell am I wasting an opportunity to eat great food.”
“Me neither.”
She laughed. Then she dropped her gaze, her cheeks turning pink again. Before he could puzzle it out, she lifted her lashes. “Do you want to have coffee at my place?” she asked softly.
His groin tightened. “I’d like that. Very much.”
Chapter Three
Angie wasn’t sure what had motivated her to ask Colt over, but she couldn’t rescind the invitation now. They’d sat in the restaurant for another half an hour or so, and then Colt paid the check even though she’d objected. He told her she could pay the next time and she’d accepted.
He’d followed her home, and now she was buzzing around the kitchen and preparing coffee—the one thing she could manage in a kitchen, along with toast and the microwave—while Colt walked around her living room and looked at her pictures. There were photos of her and Maddy, her parents, and even Pugsy Malone, the Pug dog they’d had growing up. There were pictures with friends, travel photos, and one photo of her and Dan and Maddy that she should probably put away but that she liked—in spite of Dan’s presence in it.
“Who’s this guy?” Colt asked, pointing. Naturally he’d have honed in on that one.
“You aren’t curious about the others?”
“Nope. This one.”
Angie finished scooping coffee into the basket, slid it in place, and flipped the switch. “Can I ask why?”
He looked up as she approached, arms folded over her chest. She knew it made her seem defensive, but she didn’t unfold them.
“It’s the way he’s looking at you. Possessively. None of the other pictures have that.”
Angie gaped at him. Was Dan really looking at her that way? Maybe. He’d always been the jealous type. And no wonder, since he knew intimately how to persuade women to sleep with him. He must have expected that some other guy was out there, ready to do the same to her.
“That’s really kind of uncanny, you know. Yes, you’re right. Dan was my fiancé. We were together about three years. We’d planned to get married, but the time was never right. Which turned out to be code for Dan liked the ladies and didn’t want to settle down.”
“Yikes. Sorry.”
“Yep. You’re probably wondering why I keep the photo displayed. It’s not because of him—honestly, it’s in the past and I no longer care.” Not about Dan anyway. She did care that she’d been hurt by his betrayal. It’s what made dating again so damned difficult. “It’s Maddy and me and the mountain in the background. That was the first time we went skiing together. It was fun and the picture reminds me of that day.”
“Who took the photo?”
“Ah, well, that would be Maddy’s boyfriend. He didn’t last long, though I’m sure she’s told Jace about him anyway.”
“I’m sure she has.”
Angie sat in the armchair across from the couch. Colt didn’t comment on it as he sank onto the sofa. But he had to know she’d put a table between them on purpose. Geez, she was really messing up, wasn’t she?
“Angie.”
“Yes?”
“It’s okay. If you’re more comfortable over there, I’m not offended. I’m still shocked you asked me over, so the fact you’re sitting opposite and not beside me isn’t a dealbreaker.”
She could feel her blush growing even hotter. Damn her pale complexion anyway. “It’s a little scary how you know what I’m thinking.”
He grinned. “It’s not too hard to figure out. You’re blushing, and it started when you sat. I could tell you were arguing with yourself about whether or not you’d been too obvious when you put a table between us. Truthfully, if you’d sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside you, I’d have wondered if you were drunk in spite of the fact you stopped drinking earlier in the evening.”
“I’m not drunk. You know that.”
“I do. Now relax. We’re going to have coffee and keep talking. Then I’m going to leave. If you let me, I’ll kiss your cheek. And if you don’t, that’s fine too.”
Angie pulled in a breath. Her body sizzled with awareness of the man across from her. He was tall, handsome, blond as a surfer—she was still surprised that he’d been born and raised in France—and his body rippled with muscle when he moved. He had the kind of scruffy beard she could imagine scraping sensuously over her tender flesh, and piercing blue eyes that didn’t miss a damned thing. He’d worn a navy henley and dark green khakis, and looking at him made her belly tighten.
“I swear I’m not mental,” she said. “But I can’t seem to go back to being the person I was before.”
“You experienced a lot of trauma in a short amount of time. It’s normal to be mistrustful of people.”
He didn’t have to ask before what. He knew. She loved that he knew. It wasn’t just the thing with Tom Walls—it was also the abduction and being locked in a cage with a bomb. It was knowing she’d led a killer straight to her best friend. Knowing Colt had been shot because of her. Those things were far more traumatic than a cheating fiancé and a bad break up.
“I hate that she shot you,” Angie said. “It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t led her straight to Maddy.”
Colt frowned. “I told you before it’s not your fault. It’s the job. And she was finding Maddy one way or the other, so stop blaming yourself. I’m alive. I’m fine. You didn’t cause it to happen.”
Angie pulled in a breath. Her throat was tight.
