Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(29)

“I know I shouldn’t, but I bring home a lot of my work with me at night.”

“That’s . . . admirable.” And a little disappointing, but maybe that would change if he had a girlfriend. Certainly, he wouldn’t do that if he had a wife and family. He would have other things, more important things, to occupy him. She stared at him across the table as though she could see into the future to whether or not he would be one of those men obsessed with his job to the point that he neglected his family.

It was close to ten by the time he drove her home.

She couldn’t stop herself from looking to see if her neighbor was home. North’s truck and bike were present when Brendan pulled his car in behind hers. He’d been home when Brendan picked her up earlier. It was a Saturday night. Surely he had things to do. Women to do . . .

Brendan walked around to get her door.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He smiled and gestured for her to proceed ahead of him. Her heels clicked softly as she made her way to the front porch. At her door, she stopped. This was always the awkward part.

She motioned behind her. “Would you like a tour?” They had talked about her new house over dinner. He was aware that she was a first-time homeowner and she was excited about it.

Anyone else might read the invitation to come inside as an invitation, but she had been working with Brendan for a while now, and it felt more awkward not to make the offer. They were already friends and she would have issued the invitation to any friend.

“Sure. I’d love to.” He stepped inside behind her.

She dropped her purse on the kitchen table and led him through the house, relieved that she’d tidied up the place—not that she was much for clutter. He remarked kindly about her attempts at decorating. She thought her place looked nice and homey, with copper pots hanging in her kitchen, and an array of pillows on the couches and her bed. Still, she knew it wasn’t like something out of a magazine. She didn’t really have an eye for that kind of thing.

“Thanks. Decorating is not really my thing. I’ve started watching HGTV though. Trying to pick up some tips.”

It didn’t take long to show him around. They quickly covered the downstairs: living room, kitchen, office/guest bedroom. She showed him her yard, mentioning she wanted to plant a garden in the spring. Her mother had loved to garden and it was something she wanted to try her hand at.

Next, she showed him the upstairs: the master bedroom and bathroom. The bathroom was her favorite with both a shower and a large spa tub.

Fifteen minutes later they stood in her kitchen again. The first-date-saying-goodnight awkwardness she had been hoping to avoid crept in then.

Thankfully he took it as his cue to leave. “I guess I’ll get going.”

She nodded and released a breathy sigh of relief, moving to open the door for him.

“Would you like to have dinner again? I’m really swamped this upcoming week with a trial. I’ll have several late nights. How about the week after? Actually I’ll cook and bring you dinner.”

She blinked. He would cook her dinner? “You cook?” He hadn’t mentioned that talent in their dinner conversation.

He shrugged. “I can make a decent pasta, bake some garlic bread and open a bottle of wine. Maybe you can make that cheesecake you bragged about.” He winked at her.

“That sounds great.”

He nodded. “Good. Six? It’s a work night.”

A work night. Because work is his priority. Where’s the passion? The spontaneity? She pushed aside the niggling little voice that wanted to be annoyed over this. “Sounds perfect.”

What do you want, Faith? Impractical and wild? Dirty-talking and irresponsible? A guy with a revolving bedroom door who has sex whenever he feels like it—any time, any day of the week.

She winced. No. She didn’t want that. That lived next door and she found him objectionable on every level. His body and face flashed across her mind. Well, almost every level.

Before departing, Brendan stepped in to give her a hug. She patted his shoulder and told herself that none of this was awkward at all.

Closing the door, she kicked off her shoes and moved upstairs, struggling with the zipper at the back of her dress. Finally able to grab it, she stepped out of the dress and tossed it in her laundry hamper.

She slid on a pair of pajama bottoms and a soft camisole. Making her way back downstairs, she spotted a text from Wendy demanding to know all the details of her date.

Laughing lightly, she moved into the kitchen. Opening the dishwasher, she started unloading it. She’d wait to reply to that one. There would be a lot of back and forth. Wendy was demanding that way.

Moments later, the phone buzzed again. She sent it a glance, assuming it was more from Wendy.

Date wasn’t that great?



Speak of the devil. A smile tugged at her mouth. She snatched the phone up and stared at it one long moment before lifting her gaze to stare at her wall as though she could see through to the other side.

It appeared she wasn’t the only one listening at walls and staring out between blinds. North Callaghan was monitoring her comings and goings. He’d seen Brendan bring her home and come inside her house. He’d accurately surmised she was on a date. He knew. It should be creepy, especially considering what she knew about his background, but she couldn’t feel creeped out. She’d done her share of spying on him, after all.