Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(28)

He lifted her hands from his chest and dropped them away from him. “Sorry. I’m gonna call it quits for the night.”

“What?” Her face twisted with angry emotion, which only seemed to highlight the broken spirit within. “It’s not even that late yet. What did you follow me out here for if you weren’t up for it?”

“My mistake.”

She shoved off the truck and lurched past him. “Asshole.” Mindy jabbed a thumb at the building. “Plenty of guys inside there will be happy to tap my ass.” To emphasize her point, she twisted around and slapped her backside.

She walked away, her strides choppy with the frenzy of her temper, her shoes crunching over loose gravel.

“Hey,” he called. She stopped and glanced back. “You can do better than this.” He motioned to himself and Roscoe’s with one sweep of his hand.

Even as he uttered the words, he cringed inside to hear himself use his brother’s own words on someone else. And he didn’t know why he even bothered. He wasn’t anyone’s savior.

Red splotches broke out across her face. “What are you, a missionary? Fuck off.” She slammed back inside the bar.

He stood alone in the parking lot for a few moments before managing a laugh. A missionary was the last thing he was. He was not in a position to save anyone.

He couldn’t even save himself.

He moved to his bike. Straddling it, he felt especially grim. This was not the way he’d planned to spend the night. Heading home alone and it wasn’t even 10 p.m. yet. He bet his neighbor was having a better time than he was.

And that thought was the cherry on his already shit night.



The date was going well.

The encouraging thought ran through her mind on repeat. Almost like she was trying to convince herself of that fact, but it was true. Brendan Cooper was a gentleman. He never made a misstep.

She had liked him in all their previous interactions, but still, with her track record, buried deep inside, she had been braced for disappointment.

Over an appetizer of fried calamari he asked about her job. Over their entrées of lasagna and chicken parmesan, he asked about her family, voicing his respect and admiration for her father and brothers. All checks in the respect-for-family column. It was companionable and intimate and comfortable.

When he offered Faith a portion of his chicken parm, she offered him some of her lasagna.

“I’ll never say no to food.” He smiled as he handed her his small bread plate and she gave him a portion of her entrée.

He cut into her lasagna and closed his eyes as he brought it to his mouth. After he swallowed his bite, he pronounced, “Wow. Don’t tell my mother, but that puts her lasagna to shame. She’s half Italian and would take great offense.”

Faith smiled, certain those were just words. “I won’t say anything.” He surely didn’t mean that she would meet his mother. They weren’t talking that far ahead yet.

“Do you like to cook?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes. I love to bake actually.”

His eyes widened. “Uh-oh. We could have a problem . . . because I love to eat sweets.”

For a moment, she had a flash of North Callaghan texting her that he liked cupcakes. She knew he had not been talking about true cupcakes. In this case, she knew Brendan was talking about eating sweets. For some reason her chest sank a little. What was wrong with her? She wanted Brendan to be a little dirty? This was a first date. He was appropriate and respectful and she should appreciate that and not long for something else.

She fiddled with her lasagna. “Oh, do you? Then you might like my cheesecake.” Okay, so she was attempting to flirt a little. Not to the level of last night’s flirting with North Callaghan, but definitely flirting.

“I hope dating you doesn’t make me gain too much weight.” He patted what she could see of his flat stomach. Clearly he took care of himself.

They were dating now? A slow ribbon of pleasure curled around her.

“Weight gain,” she mused. “A natural side effect of being in a relationship.”

“True, but there are worse things than turning into a plump contented man in a relationship.”

“Such as?”

“Being single and skinny.” He mock shuddered and she laughed. “I mean, if you’re happy, that’s what’s important, right?” His hazel eyes held hers. They were nice eyes. Not probing or intense.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I suppose that’s true.”

For some reason a vision of North Callaghan’s hard body flashed across her mind. She couldn’t picture him ever being soft. Or being in a relationship, for that matter.

She mentally kicked herself. She did not want to be thinking about him right now when she was having a lovely dinner with a lovely man. He’d already intruded far too much in the course of the evening.

They shared an order of tiramisu and finished their bottle of wine. It wasn’t hurried. After wine, they ordered coffee and chatted. Still, mostly about work. There was a lot of intersection in their careers. He’d represented the city of Sweet Hill in several of her cases. Things in common. She should have loved that.

But after working all week, she almost wished they could talk about something else. Anything.

She brought up some of her favorite shows, but he didn’t watch much television.