“Of course, you have to tell me your quirks if I share mine,” he said.
“Deal. Tell me.” Again her glasses slid down her nose, and she pushed them back in place.
“You know quite a few of them already.”
“I do?”
“Come on. You remember when we were kids. I was the biggest non-athletic athlete there was. Clumsy as hell.”
“How could I forget that? What changed? I mean, I saw you in operation today. You look plenty athletic to me.”
“A lot of weight-training. I golf on the weekends with friends. I’m not that much of a sports nut.”
She remembered how all the boys had teased him about not playing football or basketball. “You were great at roller skating, though. And you kicked my ass on a skateboard. You’re more athletic than you think.”
He shrugged and laughed, and the soft, deep sound sent curls of heat through her stomach. “Anybody could have kicked your ass on a skateboard.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ain’t that the truth? I’m not much better at athletic pursuits these days.”
“You’re brave, though.”
“Me? How?”
“Come on. Volcanology?”
She mirrored his shrug. “It’s geeky.”
Before he could respond the waitress bought their drinks. Cassidy sipped water, and he drank a cola.
“Good,” she said.
“Good what?”
“You’re not adverse to sugar.”
“Hell no. But I try not to go overboard.”
They matched grins, and she wondered if maybe her face was going to break from all the smiling she’d done since meeting him again. What was up with that?
“There’s nothing wrong with being geeky,” he said.
She smiled at that, too. “So why aren’t you doing a geeky job? I thought for sure you’d be a chemist or something.”
He shook his head. “Nope. You aren’t turning the conversation to me yet.”
“Damn, I tried.”
He grunted. “So, volcanology. I get that it’s studying volcanoes, but how did you decide to take that career path?”
Surprise made her stall for a moment. “People don’t usually care much about my job.”
“Are you kidding? Studying one of the most violent forces on earth? Lay it on me.” His eyes twinkled with an excitement and interest.
Lay it on me.
Oh yeah. She wanted to lay on him all right.
Her belly swirled with heat, as disturbing as the time she’d stood on the rim of a fiery volcano in Costa Rica wearing a suit designed to protect her from lava.
“Well, there is more than one kind of volcanologist, but I won’t go into all the differences. That gets boring for the layperson. I’m what’s called a physical volcanologist. I deal with actual processes and deposits of volcanic eruptions. I get information about where and how volcanoes are likely to erupt. I’ve done mapping of the distribution of the rocks that make up the volcano, chemical and dating analyses sample that give us clues about a volcano’s past. I spend a lot of time around volcanoes that are dormant or extinct.” She checked his eyes to see if they’d glazed over yet, but he looked completely enthralled. “I’ve also done work with magnetics, gravity and seismic stuff. So I’m a geophysicist as well.”
“That’s fascinating.” He took a swig of cola. “So you’re Doctor Harwood?”
She snorted. “Technically. But I don’t use that title if I can get away with it. Academically it’s a big deal at universities, but I’m out in the field most of the time. I don’t have to deal with those eggheads that much. At least as little as possible.”
His expression went thoughtful, and maybe a hint of sadness touched his eyes. “You always were looking for the big adventure. You didn’t want to stay in Bristol Peak and be bored.”
She looked for disappointment but didn’t see it in his gaze. Maybe she’d imagined it in his voice.
“That’s right,” she said.
He shoved the salt and peppershaker further to the side, as if it annoyed him. “There wouldn’t be much in a town like this to tempt a volcanologist.”
She almost groaned. He was tempting her right now.
“You waited, what, a whole day after high school graduation to leave town?” he asked.
“Yes.” She searched for a reason why that idea bothered him. “You weren’t in Bristol Peak when I graduated, remember?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I heard from a couple of friends that you left.”
She’d never been one for letting things left unsaid with the exception of one time, and she’d regretted it all her life. “I was sorry to see you leave all those years ago, when I was still here.”
“Why?”
“That’s a silly question. We were friends, remember?”
“True.”
Okay, bite the bullet girl. Just say it. “I had a huge crush on you. When you left I was…I cried like a baby.”
She almost gulped, waiting for his reaction.
His mouth popped open, surprise altering his features. Maybe telling him hadn’t been such a good idea. Vulnerability assaulted her. Then he threw her a scalding look, and the mortification dissolved. Raw masculine interested ignited in his gaze.
“That so?” he asked softly.
She swallowed hard around hesitation and fear. “Yes.”
“Damn. I’m sorry that you were hurt.”
She shrugged. “We were kids. Kids are great at hurting other people, even when it isn’t intentional.”
“Still, I’m sorry.” He smiled. “Kinda gratifying, though.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Gratifying?”
“Yeah. A woman’s never told me she had a crush on me.”
His husky voice was filled with a sensuality that made her imagine lying down for him and discovering what all his muscles would look and feel like against her. “Glad I could inflate your ego a bit.”
He laughed.
“And I’m sorry you had to leave town,” she said.
He shook his head. “Yeah. If my father hadn’t been such a sick bastard…”
His past, what his father had done, hung in the air like a bad smell. “It doesn’t matter, Jeremy.”
His eyes had darkened with sadness. “Yeah, it always does.”
She wanted to rail at the unfairness, at the way people may have painted him with his father’s brush. “You’re the brave one coming back to Bristol Peak. You could have stayed away and lived in a place where no one knew your family’s past.”
“Maybe that makes me a fool.”
“No,” she said. “It makes you courageous and admirable.”
Warmth removed the shadow she’d seen in his eyes moments before. “Thanks. I came back because I really do like this town. Most here are good people who’d do anything for you. Most of the time they don’t throw my father in my face, and they understand I’m my own man. It’s the odd one out that reminds me.” Their meals came and after the waitress left, he put dressing on his salad and said, “I didn’t realize you liked me that way. I mean, that you had a crush on me. That blows my mind.”
Her insides swirled around in a nervous flutter, equal measures of that crazy attraction driving her batty. “I felt a lot of things when I was a kid. I was more emotional.”
He leaned across the table again, lowering his voice as if he had a conspiracy to reveal. “Are you less emotional now, or more capable of hiding it?”
She laughed, but it was soft and so fake he had to know it wasn’t sincere. “Heavy conversation for a first date.”
“True. But you’re only going to be in town how long?”
She cut her steak into small pieces. “Three weeks. Or as soon as I figure out the hum, I’m outta here.”
“With only three weeks I have to work fast.”
Her knife paused. Suspicion rose. “Work fast?”
What he said next blew her away. Blew her into the next county. “Convincing you that you w
ant to spend a lot of time with me.”
“Oh…well…” She stabbed at her steak and ate with diligence.
“Oh?”
This time she gave him a genuine smile and knew she was returning his interested gaze full force. “That will be fun.”
“Because you and I know that Bristol Peak has a lot to offer.”
She chuckled. “It didn’t when we were kids. What’s new here? I haven’t kept track since Mom and Dad moved to Florida.”
“There’s a country-western club over on the main strip. It’s been here about five years.”
“Right. About the same time Brooker and Joanna got married.”
His brows drew together. “You didn’t make it to their wedding.”
She frowned. “Guilty as charged. I broke my ankle slipping down half a mountain.”
He winced. “Yeah, I remember Joanna telling me. You have accidents a lot in your work?”
“That’s the only one.” Curiosity made her ask, “What about you? Bomb disposal is dangerous work. When I heard from Joanna that you were in that line of work with the navy I was…worried.”
His gaze softened. “You worried about me?”
“Well, you know…old friends. Of course I’d worry. IEDs…”
He nodded, and his gaze left her for a moment to stare into space. “Yeah. That.”
“How was it? I mean, did you come back from all of that with any…” She wasn’t sure if she should ask, but she did anyway. “Any PTSD?”
He tilted his head slightly to the side. “No actually. At least nothing dramatic. I didn’t get blown up. I was one lucky bastard, but I did see other guys hurt and one time there was a part of a convoy I was in that got hit. Some were injured. They lived, thank God. When I got home I saw a shrink for a few months to talk out my feelings and took some pills to sleep. I got off of those real damn quick because I was looking for a law enforcement job. I went through the police academy, and I’ve worked here five years. I love my job.” He looked straight into her eyes. “I’m solid, Cassidy. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She drew in a deep, satisfied breath. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
They continued eating, pausing here and there for conversation about Bristol Peak and new businesses that had made a success of the tourist industry.
“So how about it? Should we try the country-western club? Or do you still hate country music?” he asked.
She pushed back her plate, stuffed and satisfied. “No, I don’t still hate it. I like the more modern, less twangy stuff.”
He sat back and stretched, and when those hard arms went above his head, her attention snagged on the delicious way the polo shirt molded to his biceps and chest. Oh, hell. I am in such trouble.
How often could they date while she was here? After all, he had to work, and she’d investigate the hum. Maybe she could have a good time but not get too serious. Of course. She could do that.
“Tomorrow is Friday,” he said. “Want to go out then?”
“You work fast.”
“We’ve only got three weeks, remember?”
What the hell? What could happen in three weeks but a little harmless fun? “Okay.”
“I’ll pick you up—wait, did you find a hotel?”
She sighed. “Nope. I’ve checked out every one. They’re full of other scientists and reporters.”
“What are you going to do then?”
What the hey? Just go for it. “I’ve been trying to think of somewhere to go but…is your place still open?”
A big grin warmed his face. “Yep. It’s all yours. You can come over after we finish here if you don’t have anything else planned.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
She crossed her arms and tried to look all business. “I won’t stay for free. I’ll give you money for food, et cetera.”
“Deal. And you’ll have a key so you can come and go. I’m working a day shift for the next month.”
Wow. There it was. Done. She’d stay in his place. A tingle of mixed excitement and apprehension danced over her skin. Why the hell couldn’t she just take something like this lightly? She wasn’t a giggly twenty year old just out of college.
She rushed passed that conversation from stark fear of more embarrassment. “On another note, why law enforcement? Last I remember you wanted to be a chemist.”
“Nope.” He chewed his salad, eyes downcast. “Not after what my Dad did.” He shrugged and speared a tomato. He didn’t eat as fast as she did. “I’ve had a lot of years to process it.”
“Did you become a cop to right your father’s wrong?”
“Maybe.” His attention locked on her, and she wondered if she was blowing this whole thing with hard-hitting questions right up front. “You’re very direct these days. That’s a lot different from when you were a kid.”
“You’re right. I have changed a lot in all this time. My work has changed me. The risks I take sometimes, the work is…boring one moment and challenging the next.”
“Let me guess. The challenging part is standing on the rim of an active volcano.”
“You got it.”
He shook his head. “Well, I guess we’ve both changed a lot.”
“Too much?”
“You’re worried I won’t like the new Cassidy?”
She shrugged. “Bingo. Isn’t that mature and independent of me?”
“I’d say you’re both mature and independent. You proved that. So there must be something else in there. Something that makes that worry come to the top.”
“Are you sure you’re not a psychologist in disguise?”
“Nope. Being close to getting my ass blown up has trained me to be more observant.”
She yawned uncontrollably and covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.”
“No problem. You’re exhausted and here I am talking your ear off. Want to head over to my place?”
She glanced at her watch. It was after eight o’clock, and fatigue hit her between the eyes. “I’m really tired. Sleeping sounds good right now.”
After he insisted on paying for dinner, he got into his practical, small green sedan. She followed him through the middle of town to a small cluster of houses on the outskirts and in the trees less than a mile from town. All of the houses looked new—at least they hadn’t been there when she left. They were painted dull shades of beige that didn’t clash and had more than two acres of land for each property. All the homes looked to be variations on one modern theme of ranch homes that she guessed were about two-thousand square feet.
He pulled into the garage and got out. Cassidy left her rental in the driveway. She started to wrestle with her luggage, a small carryon that she’d managed to cram full to accommodate three weeks. It included a smaller case for her toiletries. He insisted on taking the luggage as they went into the garage. Once they’d entered the house, she was pleasantly surprised by the decor. In fact, it looked positively like something she might pick when it came to decoration.
He led her through the well-appointed kitchen with its gleaming stainless steel appliances, dark wood cabinets and granite countertops and into the living room.
His living room was on an open plan to the kitchen, with a high ceiling. She followed behind him to the guest room, a large area with two big windows and its own bathroom. Open curtains revealed the wooded backyard.
“Wow, this is great.” She wheeled her carry on over to the four poster bed. “I really like the traditional dark furnishings. Pseudo Victorian.”
He leaned his rear against a large chest of drawers with a mirror. “I didn’t decorate it.”
“Oh. A decorator?”
“Hell, no. It was like this when I bought it. A foreclosure and the people left everything. That was a real plus in the price, and the place was dirt cheap.”
“Aha. Well, I like it.” She yawned again and put her purse on the bed.
“Maybe I should let you get some rest.”
“I t
hink I’ll go to bed early.”
He walked toward Cassidy, and anticipation rose inside as his tall, powerful body made way toward her. She practically held her breath. This man’s rugged, hard body sent a thrill straight through everything feminine inside her. When he stopped close to her, her breath caught.
“You’re tough,” he said as he looked down at her.
Not what she expected him to say. “How’s that?”
“You almost got shot earlier today, and you’re acting like its nothing.”
She rubbed the back of her neck. “Oh, it’s something all right. It’ll take some thinking and processing.”
“Like I said, you’re tough. But don’t be afraid to talk to me, okay? If you need to…all right?”
Warmth flooded her, a combination of appreciation and attraction. “Thanks. But I’m fine. Like you said I’m tough. Rolling down all those volcanic mountains did it for me.”
He didn’t look doubtful, but appreciative. “You still think you can figure out this so-called hum?”
“Absolutely. Who knows, maybe the woman was right about the guy being influenced by the hum.”
“You can’t believe that. She’s just making excuses for him.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in paranormal stuff.”
“I don’t. But the hum doesn’t have to be paranormal to be real. Environmental factors can influence how people act. Electrical, mineral, diet, water. You never know. It’s possible that a noise like this hum is causing people to do things they’d never to otherwise.”
He grinned. “Yeah, maybe it’s the uber-giant hot dogs old Herman is selling at his cart downtown.”
She laughed. “Or it could be something that was fine before but isn’t now.”
“Such as?”
“Maybe it’s a big-ass transformer. Has anyone talked about something as simple as that?”
“Not that I know of. But wouldn’t we all hear it if it was a transformer?”
“Not necessarily. Some people have more acute hearing. Kind of like an eye test. Twenty-twenty vision isn’t the sharpest vision possible. There are people who can see more.”
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