Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(74)

She leaned her head back, letting the hum of Nolan’s truck soothe her. She suddenly felt exhausted, and she didn’t want to talk about work anymore. Nolan seemed to take the hint, and the minutes ticked quietly by as they neared downtown San Marcos. Most of the shops had closed for the day, but the restaurants were just starting to fill up.

Nolan neared Sara’s vintage brick building.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said.

“No problem. You want to have dinner?”

She looked at him. He sounded so casual, but she sensed he cared about her answer, and she felt a flood of nerves. She didn’t want to lead him on, didn’t want him to think this was the start of something serious. But she didn’t want to let him go, either.

“There’s a pasta place on the corner that’s pretty good,” she said. “Leonardo’s? It’s the red awning just down from my building.”

“That works.”

Nolan neared the restaurant and smoothly parallel-parked in front of a meter. He cut the engine and looked at her. Before she could lose her nerve, she grabbed her purse and slid from the truck.

The aroma of garlic bread hit her, and she felt a rush of anticipation. Only some of it had to do with food. Nolan joined her on the sidewalk, and she noted the clusters of people milling outside the restaurant holding pagers. Beneath the red awning, every patio table was full.

Sara’s head started to throb. She didn’t want to wait in line tonight, or be around crowds, or make small talk. Her emotions felt too fragile today.

Nolan was watching her with those sharp brown eyes. “What is it?”

“Let’s not do this.”

He steered her away from the crowd. “What’s wrong?”

“I’d rather be at my place. Let’s get takeout. You mind?”

He rested his hand on her shoulder. “I want to spend time with you, Sara. I don’t give a damn where.”





CHAPTER 22


Sara’s nerves started up again as she unlocked her door with Nolan at her side. She didn’t know where this was going. No, she did know. It was going nowhere. She probably wouldn’t see him after the case ended, so she was digging a deeper hole for herself by spending all this time with him. She should make an excuse and head this off now, but instead, she was doing the exact opposite.

She stepped into her apartment, and the instant she switched on the light, she remembered just how messy it was. She’d rushed off to work this morning without even making the bed.

Nolan paused to look around, then set the bag of food on the bar.

“Good windows,” he said, zeroing in on her favorite feature besides the wood floors. He walked over to check out the view, and Sara took the opportunity to snatch her bathrobe off the sofa arm and scoop up several pairs of flip-flops. She opened the utility closet, dumped everything onto the washer, and shut the door.

Nolan looked amused. “Don’t clean up for me.”

“Oh, don’t worry.”

Clean was a pipe dream. A basket of clothes perched on her breakfast table, optimistically waiting to be folded. Sara grabbed several mugs off the coffee table and took them to the sink. The dishwasher was full, so there wasn’t anywhere to stash them.

Nolan shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair. He turned to examine her bookshelves, and she admired his wide shoulders as he reached for a framed photo.

“Machu Picchu?” he asked.

“You know it?”

“I spent a summer in South America after college.”

“Where?” she asked, surprised.

“Santiago. It was an immersion program. I was trying to learn Spanish. Thought it would be useful for work.”

“Is it?”

“I’m not great, but I get by,” he said.

She didn’t know why she was so surprised. Nolan traveled and read and cared about other cultures. She remembered her crack about Tolkien and realized she’d been too quick to judge him. One of her dad’s sayings popped into her head: Small-town doesn’t mean small-minded.

Nolan replaced the photo and picked up another one showing her with several friends on a ledge overlooking Peru’s Sacred Valley. She hadn’t taken notice of whether Nolan kept photos in his house or who was in them. It was a missed opportunity, and she’d missed it on purpose. She hadn’t wanted to get emotionally involved. And yet here she was, inviting him into her home and feeling anxious about what he thought. She wanted him to like it. She wanted him to see her as a successful, independent woman who’d built a life for herself in a new place. She didn’t know why she wanted so badly for him to see her that way, but she did.

She walked closer and sat on the back of the sofa. “Thank you for not giving me crap the other day.”

He set down the picture frame. “About what?”

“The way I slipped out without saying good-bye.”

“You didn’t ‘slip.’ I felt you get out of bed.”

“Oh.”

Guilt needled at her, and she wasn’t sure why. They weren’t in a relationship.

And yet he’d come to her motel when he heard about the burglary. And he’d left her a message with an update about the fingerprints. And he’d stopped by the lab to check on her. He’d been totally decent to her, and she’d been avoiding him because she was afraid. All these conflicting feelings swirled inside her, and she hadn’t planned on any of this.