“I’ve got my eye on a tall, complicated blonde.”
She knew it, wished hearing it didn’t set off those flutters low in the belly. “It’s not smart to aim for the complicated.”
“Simple’s usually surface anyway, and wears off. Then the complications are annoying instead of interesting. You’ve got my interest, Naomi.”
“I’m aware.” She watched him as she ate. “Nine times out of ten I’d rather be alone than with anyone.”
“You’re here now.”
“I’m twenty-nine, and I’ve managed to evade, avoid, and slip around any sort of serious relationship.”
“Me, too. Except I’ve got three years on you.”
“Since I left New York six years ago, I haven’t stayed in any one place over three months.”
“You’ve got me there. I’ve lived here all my life. But I have to repeat myself, you’re here now.”
“And right now, this feels like my place. Things start up with you, screw up with you, it affects that.”
“I don’t know how you manage life with that sunny, optimistic nature of yours.”
She smiled. “It’s a burden.”
Knowing the risk, he pushed a bit deeper. “Ordinarily I’d assume you had some crappy relationship or marriage behind you. But that’s not it. You’ve got a solid family under you, and that’s foundation.”
She nudged her plate away. “Think of it as internal wiring.”
“No. I’m good with wiring. You’ve got enough self-confidence and sense of self-worth to punch an asshole, to head off on your own to go after what you wanted. You’re complicated, Naomi, and that’s interesting. But you’re not wired wrong.”
She rose, took both their plates to the counter. “There was a boy who loved meor thought he did the way you can at twenty. I slept with him, and studied with him, worked with him. When he told me he loved me, asked me to live with him, I broke it off. Right then and there. It was hard for us both to get through the rest of college. Easier for me, no doubt, because I didn’t have those feelings for him. So I could just walk away.”
“But you remember him.”
“I hurt him. I didn’t have to.”
Maybe, Xander thought, but he doubted anybody got through the labyrinth of life without hurting someone, whether or not they had to.
“I guess you’re counting on me falling in love with you and asking you to live with me.”
“I’m pointing out the problems with relationships when they go south and people live and work in close proximity.”
“Maybe you’ll fall in love with me, ask me to live with you in that big house on the bluff.”
“I don’t fall in love, and I like living alone.”
Xander glanced at Tag and decided not to point out that she’d fallen for the mutt and lived with him.
“Then I know that going inunlike the college boy. I’ll get those. I know how it works. Want more wine?”
She turned away from the sink. “Better not. Water’s better since I have to drive.”
“It’s a nice night. Once I clean this up we can take a walk, work off dinner. Let the dog stretch his legs.”
“He could probably use it.” She took the water he offered, wandered back toward the wall of books. “I really do want to take some shots here. Is there any time that works for you?”
“Why don’t you come over Fridayanytime. The door’s open if I’m working down below. But if you came later in the day, you could go over to Loo’s after. We could grab some dinner before we play.”
“You’re playing Friday?”
“Nine to midnight. Ish. Kevin and Jenny can probably come, if you want.”
Not really a date so much as a get-together, with food and music. And she did like the music. More, she wanted to get back in here with her camera and . . .
Everything went blank and cold as her gaze latched onto a single spine in the wall of books.
Blood in the Ground: The Legacy of Thomas David Bowes, by Simon Vance.
They’d changed the title for the moviethe title and focusas they’d wanted the drama focused on the young girl who’d discovered her father, who’d saved a woman’s life, who’d stopped a murderer.
After her mother’s death, once she’d believed she could face it, Naomi read interviews by the director, the screenwriter, so she knew why they’d turned the book into Daughter of Evil. But this was where it had started, this held all the horror and the cold-blooded years of one man’s murderous secrets.
“Naomi?” Xander tossed the dishcloth aside and started for her. “What’s wrong?”