"If it's bothering you that much, you might ought to swing by Doc Carlisle's before things get too busy around here. Might be broken. Your fingers are looking a little swollen."
Since Doc Carlisle was the biggest quack in a hundred-mile radius, she wouldn't be paying him a visit if her wrist was dangling by no more than a thread of skin.
"It's fine. Just a sprain. I've got a brace I can put on it upstairs."
"You remind me a lot of your granny," he said with a sigh. "She's got a head hard as a rock too."
"Thank you." And she sincerely meant it. Her grandmother was a hell of a woman. Being compared to her was a million times better than the alternative of being likened to her mother.
"Let me know when that van gets back. I'd still like to take a look at it."
Damned man was tenacious as a bulldog. She tried to hide her scowl behind her cup.
His lips quirked in half a smile before he said, "Anyone ever tell you you don't hide your feelings very well?"
"It's my stupid red-headed complexion," she said, rolling her eyes.
"And probably the fact that everything you're thinking appears right across your face. You probably shouldn't ever play poker."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Since cards are out, how about dinner?"
She'd just taken a sip of coffee, so when the question finally penetrated her brain, she tried to suck in a breath at the same time she was swallowing. It didn't work out all that well and sent her into a fit of coughing.
Tess pounded on her chest and prayed coffee didn't come out of her nose. It was sixth grade all over again.
"That wasn't really the reaction I was hoping for," Cal said, his voice amused.
Her eyes were watering and she knew her face was probably blotchy. She wasn't a pretty crier. "No," cough,cough. "Sorry," cough. "You just took me by surprise."
It's like she'd started the day in an alternate universe. She hadn't been on a date since Henry left. Now all of a sudden it was raining men, and the sun had barely risen.
"I guess I've been out of the game too long," he said. "I think people text stuff like that these days."
"And they probably don't treat the person like a suspect first," she said. "You might want to work on your timing."
"Right," he said. "Perks of the job. It always comes first."
"Also probably not something you want to tell a woman before you ask her out. They tend to not want to be second in a man's life."
"Huh," he said thoughtfully. "Never did understand women."
"Good luck with that. The good news is you've still got lots of time to learn. You're still in your prime. And Clarice Grabel says you're real good in bed, so there's that too."
Cal sighed and pushed up from the table. "I knew that one was a mistake."
She nodded sagely. "We all make them. But at least the gossip is positive instead of negative. I'm sure your street cred has gone up tremendously since you made your mistake with her."
"You're a nice woman, Tess Sherman. Try to stay out of trouble, and make sure you're not making any mistakes of your own. I'll show myself out." He paused on his way out of the room. "No hard feelings, right, Tess?"
"We're good."
"I'll be back to check the van later."
She scowled and heard the front door close softly. "I guess that could've gone a lot worse," she said, freshening her cup. "Of course, it could've gone a lot better too."
And now she was afraid things would be awkward between them from now on. Cal had never once shown an inkling of interest toward her, and she'd never seen him as anything but an authority figure. She couldn't even figure out if she could have those kinds of feelings for him. He was attractive, sure, but he'd always just kind of . . . been there.
At least he hadn't said anything about a missing body. She wasn't sure she could've lied her way out of that one, even knowing the body wasn't really dead.
Now all she had to do was wait until the mystery man woke up, so she could get to work. Or she could hunt down Deacon and demand answers, especially since she'd just lied to a cop for him.
And maybe he would kiss her again.
"No," she said. "No, no, no."
Her mama wasn't right about much, but she was right about one thing. Men made women do stupid things.
CHAPTER FIVE
Deacon ran the three miles through the tunnel, ignoring how the walls closed in on him. How his lungs tightened and fear crept in like a shroud of blackness, making him light-headed. He focused on his breathing-in and out-in and out-and not on how his legs felt like jelly or how his heart pounded painfully in his chest.