“I was tired of big-city living,” she began, easily telling him the lie. “Getting tired of the rat race.”
“What do you do for a living?” He poured a waterfall of sugar into his cup, stirring as he watched her. It was almost as though he were searching through interesting files in her brain.
Mia shrugged. “Nothing too interesting. I work in a department store in Milwaukee.” She’d toured the Blush departments of several stores there over the years. “Cosmetics. My grandmother left me a little money and I want to take some time to decide what to do with my life.” Not too much information, if she wanted what she was telling him to sound believable.
“Louisiana’s a big jump from Milwaukee.”
“I figured a change was as good as a holiday.” So not true. She was a fish out of water here, and intensely missed much of her real life. She was here because she had to hide and this was the most unlikely place anyone would think to look for her. If she didn’t at least have the structure—however loose it might be—of her list to focus on, she’d already have gone mad.
She missed the rushing to meetings, the juggling of a hundred issues at once. The noise and electric heartbeat of San Francisco. While Bayou Cheniere was absolutely nothing like living in that big cold house on Nob Hill, the silence and isolation here for the past month made her feel the same as she had growing up. Alone. “I saw the ad for the house. It looked as if it needed some TLC, I had the time . . .”
Cruz shot her another not-quite-smile, which made her heartbeat kick up and her mouth go dry. “That place needs a lot more than a little TLC.”
“I’ll give her what I can and go from there.” Mia realized she hadn’t taken her attention away from his sexy-as-sin mouth, and that devastating promise of a smile dragged her attention back to his face. With a brief stop at the impressive outline of his pecs under his T-shirt, unfortunately now dry. “Are you a city or country boy?”
“Mostly city. Small towns have their own charms, but”—he shrugged—“not my thing.”
She tried to detect an accent, but she couldn’t tell if he had one or not. “And yet, here you are. Why?”
“Why not? I can do my work anywhere. Just figured between jobs I’d travel around, see the country. Experience different places and people. I was heading to New Orleans when the truck broke down. Bayou Cheniere is as good as anywhere. As long as I can put gas in my truck and eat, I figure I’m here as long as the work lasts.”
“No permanent home?”
“The camper for now. So far I haven’t felt the urge to put down permanent roots. I was in the military for a while. Got to see the world, in a manner of speaking.”
The military could mean he was on permanent KP duty peeling potatoes. But somehow Mia didn’t think so. He seemed always alert, even when he appeared relaxed. His bearing was that of a man quick in his reflexes, fast on his feet.
He shrugged. “I like the freedom to pick up and go whenever the mood strikes me.”
“Leaving a string of broken hearts behind you?” Mia kept her tone light. Of course he left a string of broken hearts behind him. He was a man constantly on the move. But a man who looked and acted as he did would always have women falling at his feet. She’d be wise to remember that for the duration.
His eyes held hers. “I never make promises I know I won’t keep.”
“An admirable trait.”
The waitress returned with their burgers, greasy fries, and more coffee, then ambled off slowly. Mia suspected that all three of the people behind the counter were straining their ears to hear their conversation.
He shrugged again. “What about you? What brought you to Bayou Cheniere, Louisiana?” He glanced out the rain-spattered window, then back to Mia. “Not the weather, I presume?”
She smiled, wanting to reach out to touch the stubble on his jaw. She’d felt it on her breasts and inner thighs the night before. She wanted to feel the abrasion again. Soon. Now.
“I don’t mind the rain. This is a bit of a change of pace for me, I must admit. But I’m enjoying the differences.”
“How long are you planning to stay here?”
“As long as it takes.” Until whoever was after her was caught.
“As long as what takes? Getting the house in livable shape?”
“Something like that.”
Cruz picked up his mug. “Let’s drink to intriguing encounters and interesting destinations. Bon appétit.”
They clinked simultaneously raised coffee mugs.
It felt, Mia thought, feeling a little silly, exactly like a first date.