“I thought I told you not to come.” Cara’s eyes flashed angry fire.
“Since when do I do what I’m told?” he asked, stepping closer.
He didn’t miss the shiver that rippled through her. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her close. “What happened?”
Stiff at first, she surprised him, letting herself relax into his embrace. “My father was drunk and started ranting at my mother. Apparently he threw dishes at the wall, and the neighbors didn’t appreciate the noise. That and they were worried for my mother’s safety.”
“Is she okay?”
Cara shrugged. “According to Rob.”
Mike paused. “You didn’t talk to her?”
She shook her head, still burrowing into him. “I can’t. I’ve told her I won’t see her again unless she leaves him.”
Mike was considering his reply carefully when without warning, Cara pulled out of his grasp. “I need to go.”
“Wait,” Mike said. It wasn’t a request. He’d laid down the order like he expected her to follow. He wasn’t sure if she’d listen, but he was determined to try. He didn’t dig into why it was so important she not run off alone right now.
She turned back to face him. “What?” Her teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.
“Where’s your jacket?”
She blinked at him, startled. “In my Jeep. Is that what you wanted to know?”
He stifled a laugh. “No.” He shrugged his leather jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” she asked, digging in her heels, literally refusing to walk another step.
“You’re freezing and upset. We’re going to get a cup of coffee and talk, and then you can get in your car and drive home.”
“Bossy,” she muttered, as she pulled his jacket tighter around herself for warmth.
Okay, so she wasn’t bolting, and relief gripped him. He grabbed her hand and led her down the street from where her parents lived, then around the corner to Lynette’s. The small diner on the corner was a favorite of locals and cops assigned here.
He opened the door, allowing her to step ahead of him inside. At this hour it was fairly empty, and they walked to the back, slipping into a booth. Instead of sitting across the table, Mike slid in right beside her, intentionally crowding into her personal space.
“What are you doing?” she asked, still defensive, probably from embarrassment.
He couldn’t hold back a grin. “Using you for body heat.”
She shot him a disbelieving stare.
“What? You have my jacket and it’s January, remember?” That and he just wanted to be close to her.
He hadn’t gotten over the heat they’d generated in his apartment, and though he wouldn’t make a sexual overture when she was vulnerable, he still wanted her. And his body demanded he stay close. A part of him he didn’t recognize wanted to take care of her now that she was upset, but again he refused to look at that too closely.
“What are you doing here so late?” Lynette, the diner owner, a heavyset woman in her midfifties, came over with a pot of coffee in her hand.
“Just warming up,” Mike said to her.
“Cara, honey, want some coffee?” she asked.
Mike wasn’t surprised Lynette knew Cara by name, what with her having grown up in the neighborhood and being given shifts here.
“Can I get tea? Something decaf?” Cara asked. “I’ll never sleep if I have caffeine.”
“Sure thing. Plain old decaffeinated or chamomile?”