Good Girls Don't (Donovan Brothers Brewery 1)

“I don’t know, but I’m going to guess from your reaction that you feel stupid about something.”

“Luke—” She cut herself off at that one word, but he could read fury and sadness and resentment, all tied up in that one syllable.

She walked on, heading straight for her car, but he followed, waiting until she opened her door and ditched her bags. Before she could slip into the driver’s seat and escape, he put a hand across the door. “Please talk to me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know that, damn it. It’s pretty obvious. Why?”

“It’

s none of your business.”

He felt a sharp stab of pain and a sudden anger. He tried his best to tamp it down, but some of it leaked past his hold. “It is my business, because the whole town thinks I knocked you up.”

“So tell them that you didn’t.”

“And then what? They’re going to want to know who did, and I can’t answer that question. What the hell are they going to think about you, then?”

“I don’t care.” Her face was as blank as any hardened criminal’s under interrogation. She’d always been good at that, but Luke used to be the one she’d actually talk to.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he growled.

She met his gaze with a cool stare, and when he tossed up his hands and backed away, Simone simply got in her car and shut him out. He felt the dull, hard thud of the door all the way through his body.

If he had knocked her up, he could understand this, but he and Simone had never had sex.

Luke retreated to his own car, then sat there with the windows down, trying to breathe his way to calmness. After a few minutes, he made his hands unclench from the steering wheel, and he laid his head back. The sun was setting and the breeze was cool enough to soothe his temper. He heard the subtle whir of a pack of bikes sliding past the parking lot. Then the click of dog claws against the cement. His gut still burned, but the rest of him was calm when his phone rang. By the time he raised it to his ear, Luke had convinced himself it was Simone calling to apologize.

“Asher,” he said neutrally.

“Hi, this is Tessa Donovan.”

His head snapped up so quickly that the world blurred around him.

“Am I bothering you?” she asked.

Tessa Donovan? “No, it’s fine,” he managed to say.

“You’re not in the middle of a big murder investigation or something?”

Luke smiled. “No, we don’t get a lot of those around here. Luckily there are enough lesser crimes to keep me busy.”

“Luckily!” She laughed, and the sound was richer than he’d expected, not the least bit like a giggle at all.

“So what can I help you with?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t seem to have a dinner companion. Could you help with that?”

“Um.” Not the smoothest answer, but Luke’s brain was having trouble making the transition. “Pardon me?”

“Dinner? I’m driving up from Denver right now, but I’m almost home. I could be changed and ready in forty-five minutes.”

“For dinner.”

“Yes. Unless it’s against the rules. I don’t want to get you put on desk duty because I’m a material witness.”

Luke found himself grinning at his dashboard. “You didn’t witness anything. And you watch too much TV.”