Her Detective's Secret Intent

“We’re attracted to each other,” he said, adding a lightness to his tone he didn’t feel. “We should drink to that. Can I get you another coffee?” He stood, needing that espresso in the worst way.

“Another latte?” she asked, gazing up at him, as though she’d just asked for a whole lot more and was confident he’d deliver.

He wanted to.

But was equally sure he couldn’t. Not yet.

One thing was for certain. His weekly call with the man paying his rent couldn’t come fast enough. Maybe he’d break protocol and move the conversation up by a few days.

Maybe.

Standing at the coffee bar, Tad was mostly just eager to get back to the beautiful woman waiting for him at the table in the corner.

* * *

Miranda’s stomach was in knots. Her hands shook. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d made up her mind two days ago to have this talk with Tad Newberry, or that she’d rehearsed how it would go.

He’d looked her in the eye and told her

he was attracted to her. Okay, not a major occurrence in the larger scheme of things, but in her world, it was a huge first. A guy she had the hots for thought she was hot.

In her old life, that had never happened. After all the counseling she’d had, she understood that the feminine part of her, the part that controlled things like budding sexual attraction, had been shut down by her father’s abusive treatment. Her defenses against men, against trusting men, had been acute ever since.

And now?

Now she had to have the conversation she’d set out to have. Regardless of how her belly flip-flopped and her crotch got warm as she watched Tad walk back to her.

She thanked him for the coffee. Took a sip to distract herself while he sat down. No need for her to glom on to his fly while it hung there at eye level.

This situation was not going to get out of control. She couldn’t let it.

Wouldn’t let it.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” she said as soon as the sting of hot coffee subsided from her tongue. “No matter how I feel about someone, I’m not going to hook up, period. At least not until Ethan is older.”

There. She’d done her deed. And if it meant he walked out of here and avoided her the rest of the months he was in town, so be it.

All the better, really. Meant she didn’t have to be on her guard around him. Constantly fighting the insane need she had to feel his lips on hers.

To know how his tongue felt against hers.

When she and Jeff had conceived Ethan, they’d tried to kiss first, but had ended up laughing, instead.

Tad was still sitting there. Studying her. “Good to know,” he said, leaving her with a strong desire to be privy to every single one of his thoughts.

“You’re only here for, what, another nine months, at most?”

No. That hadn’t come out right. As though, if he was willing to hang around, she might change her mind.

There could be no hint of possibility here. No cracks in any doors or windows through which he might slip.

“At most,” he told her. He’d leaned back in his chair, was sitting partially sideways so that one arm was on the table, the other hanging off the corner of his chair. As though he didn’t have a care in the world.

But the way he watched her...assessing...made her nervous. Like he was seeing more than she could ever allow.

This was a bad idea. Worse even than she’d feared.

What if she let something slip? Some little nugget of a fact that made him curious...