Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(147)
How could he want her more badly than ever, after all this time? After what he knew she was, how he knew she saw him?
Dev’s temper was barely in check by the time they reached the tree. Holding his jaw tight enough to crack a tooth, he set down the basket and busied himself spreading the quilt, refusing to look at her while he cursed the part of him that was ruling his brain.
Lacey knelt on the quilt, folding those godforsaken legs beneath her, and opened the basket, still not looking at him.
It made him madder than hell.
Boone and Maddie and Mitch, he thought, chanting the names silently like a mantra. They’re your friends. Don’t blow this.
But he didn’t know what to say to her, how to move his thoughts up to that superficial, carefree level.
He might have known she would. Her tone careful, she spoke while gracefully setting out plates and silverware rolled in heavy, expensive napkins. “So what do you do for a living, Dev?”
I find out secrets. Like yours. “I’m a private investigator.”
Her head lifted quickly, the surprise smoothing over so quickly he might have imagined it. “Like Sam Spade?”
Clever. She had a sense of humor.
“Yeah. Left my fedora at home, though. Hope it doesn’t ruin the image.”
Lacey laughed, and it flowed over his hearing like water in the desert, light and fresh and too delicious for his own good.
But it helped. It pulled him back from the anger.
She looked at him then, the silvery eyes bright. For just a second, he thought he saw regret slip across them like a shadow over the sun.
“I don’t mind. You don’t have the accent, though. You’d need to be more gruff.”
He pitched his voice to a growl. “You dames are all alike. A guy’s tough, you want him gentle like some damn poet. He’s a soft touch, you want him dangerous.”
Lacey’s hands stilled on the crackers she was carefully arranging around a half-wheel of Brie.
Memory and desire scorched the air around them.
Dangerous, Lacey thought. Then and now. She’d loved his edge, loved the way he made her feel so alive. As though wild was something she could be, too. He’d swept into her life like a hurricane, like a dragon breathing fire and danger. He’d broken into her safe little world like a cat burglar, and she’d reveled in the delicious thrill.
Then like a good cat burglar, before she’d realized it, he’d stolen her heart and every last shred of her common sense. She’d taken risks with him that she’d never dreamed of before—or since.
She was careful now. Always so careful.
She busied herself again with the crackers, setting the plate closer to him. She forced her voice back to lightness. “So who do you work for?”
“No one.” His voice was hard. “I’ll never take orders from anyone again.”
It wouldn’t serve to dig deeper. Light was what they needed now. “So do you do things like sneak around in the dark and catch cheating husbands?”
“Not if I can help it.” The edge sharpened.
She hadn’t asked it right. “I’m sorry. I phrased that poorly. I wasn’t being snide. I only know what I read or see in the movies.” She forced her gaze up to him, her apology sincere. “What exactly does a private investigator do?”
His frame relaxed. Leaning back on one hand, he propped the other arm on his upraised knee. “Lots of them do exactly that. Divorce cases are a staple. Or working for lawyers, digging up background information for trials.”
“But not you?”
Dev shrugged. “I’ve done my share, but most of what my agency does is corporate background checks.”
“Other people work for you?”
He nodded, and she thought she saw the gleam of pride. “I went to work for the former owner part-time after I got out of the service, then wound up buying the business when he wanted to retire. It was small potatoes then, but I’ve got ten investigators working for me now.”
“Do you still investigate, too?”
A strange look crossed his face so quickly she might have imagined it. He nodded. “I’ve gained a reputation for being able to find people.”
“What kind of people?”
“Missing. Any kind. Vanished spouses, missing children…” He straightened abruptly, scanning the offerings. “So what do we have here?”
Lacey took the hint and didn’t press. It didn’t matter anyway—she wouldn’t see him again after today. “It’s only marginally healthy, but I hope you like it. Foie gras, Brie, water biscuits, fruit…” She reached into the basket and pulled out a bottle. “Chardonnay—would you like to check the vintage?”