Deadly Testimony (Safeguard #2)(51)
Kyle hid a smile as the two of them left the hotel together. Previously she’d made them leave separately, one after the other at varying time intervals. This time, they left as a couple and bid each other goodbye at the street corner while he got in a cab and she walked.
She’d scowled about it, considering it a risk to be separated from him for long but his cab ride took him up to Pike Place Market uneventfully, where he waited by the tourist-filled area watching parents take pictures of their children climbing over the metal pig. Cognizant of her warnings, he stayed under the cover of the market’s permanent roof.
In minutes, she was there, in a different outfit and wearing sunglasses. Her hair was up and tucked under another of her endless supply of cute hats.
Studying her, once she joined him, he couldn’t help but grin. “You enjoy this.”
“What?” Behind her sunglasses, she must be scanning the area. She didn’t simply look out over the streets at the people, he’d learned. She looked up over the balconies and rooftops, into windows if possible, and shadowy areas between buildings.
Places he’d never thought to look for watchers—or shooters—until he’d met her.
“You enjoy the different hats and sunglasses. Even the wigs.” Of course, it made sense to change looks as they were remaining in the city. “It’s amazing how accessories can completely change the way a person looks, but it isn’t just about the practicality. You relish trying new ones.”
She turned her face toward him slowly. Telltale flags of color had risen up on her cheeks. She didn’t say anything.
He grinned even more, delighted, actually. Her lack of commentary meant he was right. She seemed to prefer silence to lying. A preference he appreciated.
“Hats, sunglasses, scarves.” The gift possibilities were endless. “You have excellent taste, in every style I’ve seen so far. How many variations do you have packed away in your backpack?”
She sighed and tugged at his elbow, taking them into the crowded market. In a tucked-away corner between stalls, she handed him a hat and sunglasses while she swapped her own.
Actually, it was very clever. Such items packed small, compact, and required little effort to shake out and wear. It allowed for effective quick changing. At first, he’d felt ridiculous but now it was a precaution with an element of fun to it.
“Mix and match helps with variety.” Lizzy didn’t look at him as she spoke, letting her hand trail along the edge of a vendor table as they wound through the market. “I started with just a couple, but one of my teammates got me hooked on picking up a little something wherever we went.”
“A good idea.” Even though she was going through the motions of browsing, he’d noticed she’d never bought anything. “But you haven’t done that with me. Too familiar with the items here?”
She lived in the Seattle area, after all. Or at least he presumed she did. She hadn’t actually shared much information about herself.
Picking up a trinket, she paused to give the vendor a quick smile. As she set it down and continued to browse, he almost missed her answer. “We’re in the middle of a live contract right now. Even if I don’t mean to, something I pick up is a memory. For me, and for anyone watching me. It’s better not to.”
“No souvenirs, then?” A heavy weight dropped into his stomach, surprising him. “You prefer not to remember this time?”
Well, it was a good thing to know. He’d enjoyed their tryst. It was always good to have the correct expectations when interacting with a person. Refreshing, actually, the way she was breaking it to him. He’d usually had to let his companions down gently.
“Slow down whatever thought process is going on inside your head. I prefer to do as little as possible to tie me to the person I’m keeping safe when I’m in the middle of a contract.” Her words had an edge to them, and tinged with real anger, not irritation. “Would you prefer I remembered you as my client or as a person?”
Her question rocked him back on his heels. Without a doubt, he wanted her to remember him as the latter, not the former. He didn’t know when he’d stopped considering whether he’d extend her contract as a personal bodyguard but now, he was wondering whether he even had a chance of convincing her to let him see her again. Sometime in the past day or two—had it really only been that long?—he’d started looking forward to starting his life over. It wasn’t because he should, or to provide a life his sister and his nephew deserved, but because Lizzy had made it fun. The first two had been good reasons, the last made him happy.
Lizzy had added a spark to life, expanded his world and threw him off balance. They were all very interesting things.
For example, being completely wrong in his perception of a situation was new for him. She had a knack for getting through his guard, coming from an unexpected angle and knocking the breath out of him. And all with simple verbal sparring.
He very much hoped to have the chance to tangle with her more over the next couple of days, physically and verbally. Intimately, as well.
For the time being, he lengthened his stride to cover the step or two lead she had on him. “Perhaps one day we’ll have the opportunity to acquire a few keepsakes after the trial.”
“We need to get you to it first.” She led him across the street and up into a small shop at the corner of Post Alley. “I like the white peach ginger beer here.”