A Difficult Woman

Squaring time.

He made his way up the walk as far as the bottom porch step, and for a moment he and Tara simply stared at one another. She was dressed for work, but her feet were bare, and her hair hung to her waist in a loose ponytail. She looked tired and yet she also looked good. Must be the hair he thought, wondering what it would feel like to hold handfuls of it.

And what would it feel like spilling over his chest?

The thought came out of nowhere. What would it feel like if he got a grip?

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tara said, breaking the silence. “I want to apologize for last night. I was rude and ungrateful. I’m sorry.”

The words came out in a staccato rhythm, sounding more rote than sincere.

“You haven’t apologized much, have you?”

Tara frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re not very good at it.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“You have most of the words right,” he explained, “but it’s the delivery that’s all wrong. You see, you’re supposed to sound like you mean it, not like you’re saying whatever you have to.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Yeah? Well, guess what? At this point I would say whatever I have to to get you to do what I want.”

Not what he expected. He almost smiled, but Tara didn’t notice. She was staring at something in the distance as she worked out what to say next. When she looked back at him, her expression was grudgingly sincere.

“When you hit Eddie last night, I was shocked and…unnerved, I guess. I hadn’t expected any intervention and then, out of the blue, there you were.” She held his gaze for a few seconds. “I’m sorry for not being more appreciative. I know you were trying to help. It was just kind of—” she pressed her lips together momentarily “—scary help.”

Okay. That was a revelation. It hadn’t occurred to him that of the two of them, she might have considered him more of an unknown than the big guy she’d been staring down. “I guess I can understand that.”

Tara studied him matter-of-factly, almost fatalistically. “Are you here to pick up your check?”

“Nope.”

“So—” she tilted her head “—are you coming back to work?”

He gave a nod.

There was a cautious silence, then, for the first time since he’d met her, Tara smiled. At him. A slow, totally fascinating curve of her lips that changed her beauty into something warmer, more approachable, a hundred times sexier. He felt as if his breath had caught in his throat, which was ridiculous. It was only a smile.

“That’s great.” Her voice was low. “I was afraid—”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Her expression grew serious. “As long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“It shouldn’t…as long as you pick on someone your own size.”

Her smile was more wry than sensual this time, but once again, Matt felt a response he wasn’t ready for.

“Do I still get lunch?”

“Twelve sharp.” She raised a eyebrow. “I have some breakfast on, too, if you’re interested. It should be ready in about ten minutes. Nicky’ll probably have more coffee brewing by now.”

Breakfast that didn’t include bouncy eggs and burned toast? Coffee that didn’t bottom out on the pH scale? What a concept.

“Consider me interested.”

THE SUN WAS SETTING by the time Matt finished for the day. He left Tara inspecting the porch, which was practically done, and although she hadn’t said much, she’d worn a satisfied smile that somehow made the hours worth it.

He pulled up in front of his house a few minutes before he was due to meet Luke. He figured he had just enough time to wash the sawdust off before he made his way across the alley for another fun-filled night at the Owl. He’d just turned on the shower when he heard a sharp rap at the door.

He cranked the water off, pulled on his jeans and his glasses, and then walked barefoot over the old hardwood floor to the front entry. The rapping continued, rattling the small curtained window in the door. He pulled the door open and found himself facing a uniformed deputy.

“What happened?” he demanded, hoping the guy wasn’t there to tell him Luke’d had a heart attack or something.

“Nothing’s happened.” The deputy’s tone was professional, his dark eyes carefully appraising. Catzilla peeked in from behind his legs. “I’d just like to talk to you for a minute, Officer Connors.”

Officer Connors. Not only did the guy know who he was, he was pretty damned formal about it.

“Is this official?” Matt asked. He didn’t know how it could be…unless it had something to do with the parking lot incident last night. Assault, maybe? Oh, that would go over well with the lieutenant. He was just itching to get something on Matt.

“I’m not on duty right now.”

Matt stepped back to allow the man in. The deputy expertly blocked the cat’s entry before he closed the door behind him. He gave Matt another quick appraisal before introducing himself. “I’m Rafe Sanchez. A friend of Tara’s.”

“Tara? She had you check me out?”

“No. I heard what happened with Eddie Johnson last night.”

There was a beat of silence while Matt put two and two together. Sanchez wasn’t on duty and Johnson didn’t seem like the type to press charges. “So you decided to check me out.”

“Yep.”

Matt wasn’t insulted. He understood looking out for your own.

“What’d you find out?”

“You’re with the Reno PD. You’re a friend of Luke’s. You’re on vacation.”

Matt nodded. “Yeah.”

“How long will you be in town?”

“A few weeks.”

“And then you’ll be going back to work?”

Something in Sanchez’s voice caught Matt’s attention and he realized Sanchez had facts. At the very least, he knew about what happened, maybe about Matt’s father, too. Matt let out a soft breath.