"I've been looking out for her, checking her security. Nikki's in a helluva vulnerable state."
"It must be tough for her to be so helpless."
"Nikki's a tough lady," Carson answered without even thinking—then stopped, the words and their truth kicking around in his head for a second before settling.
Why hadn't he realized it before? Sure Nikki had been dealt a raw deal right now, but he needed to stop viewing her as a victim. Had he done so as a convenient excuse to keep his distance?
He needed to quit thinking he was protecting her by ignoring the attraction, the connection. Not that he'd been all that successful. Relationships were a lot tougher to achieve than any Ivy League diploma on his wall.
Was he really considering asking her out on dates? Forget the age difference? Her father's objections. His own concerns about his ability to be an equal partner. A hefty dose of cons.
And only one reason in the pro column, a reason he couldn't even quite define. Something as nebulous as the way the wind in sails and the clouds against a windscreen soothed his soul. "You're right."
"Of course. No morons around here, remember?"
"We can only hope." He rocked back in his office chair. "Any suggestions for how I should make things right so I have a chance at moving forward?"
Jansen leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "There's no secret answer other than every woman is different. Quit trying to charge ahead with what you think she needs and just listen."
Another A.A. technique he should have figured out for himself.
Flipping his wrist to check his watch, Jansen winced. "I gotta make tracks." He shoved to his feet. "Give me a call anytime. Okay?"
"Will do."
Jansen paused by the door. "Hey, Carson?"
"What?"
"Good luck." The lumbering vet smirked.
"I'm going to need it figuring this lady out."
"That isn't what I meant." Jansen shook his head slowly. "I meant good luck, because Nikki Price's father is totally going to kick your officer ass."
Great. Just what every guy wanted to hear as he reached for the phone to call a woman.
* * *
Nikki strode along the wooden walkway toward Beachcombers chanting, "Idiot, idiot, idiot..." But a curiously excited idiot.
She'd looked forward to this outing since Carson called her yesterday and asked her to lunch. His invitation had quickly distracted her from the disappointment of learning the surveillance cameras at the school had been angled wrong to catch any helpful information about the vandalism to her little track.
The planked path forked, one way snaking to the back bar and marina, the other route leading to the front entrance of the restaurant where she was not going on a date. Just meeting Carson at Beachcombers for a meal to help joggle more memories free. Regardless, thanks to a new set of tires on her Ranger providing transportation, she now stood outside Beachcombers.
She tromped up the steps to the sprawling wraparound porch that usually buzzed with conversation from the diners, but sported only sparse smokers in the cooler climate. Her stomach cramped with nerves, even more from the prospect of seeing Carson.
Pushing through the heavy door, she searched the crush of people in the wide hallway, a waiting area complete with gift shop stalls and cubbies. She weaved through the melee, the lunch crowd mirroring the weekend gang, but with a subdued workday air.
For the first time, she noticed the wide age range. She'd always been so focused on her friends—and yeah, the fly-boys—she hadn't noticed how many retirees frequented the place, as well. Were they around on the weekends, too? She would have to pay closer attention.
Flipping her wrist, she glanced at her Minnie Mouse watch. The second hand clicked past Minnie's glove.
Fifteen minutes early.
So much for appearing blasé. But she wasn't into game playing this go-round. She would be herself, totally—mast climbing, sarcophagus building, notoriously early Nikki Price.
Still no sign of Carson, but any number of crises at the squadron could have delayed him. She refused to turn into a quivering mass. He wouldn't be that important to her ever again.