Page 20 of Reckless
I find I search out opportunities to be around her, not only because I think she’s in danger. The way she laughs—light and bubbly—makes me want to laugh along with her. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that way. Carefree. Full-bodied. I swear she all but sparkles when she does it.
I shake my head.
You’re so full of it, McNalley.
As though to taunt me, the door opens, and Phoebe walks out, the sound of her giggle preceding her. The grip she’s talking to only has eyes for her. He stumbles off the sidewalk and into the road before he can look somewhere else. When he finally sees me step closer to Phoebe, his Adam’s apple bobs, and he makes a quick excuse to scurry away.
“Do you mean to intimidate everyone all the time, or is it a power you can turn on and off?”
“You need to be more careful who you’re with. We don’t know who is stalking you. It could be anyone.” I need to remember that myself. Any of these people could be the person stalking her. People I’ve worked with and trusted. It’s hard to imagine any of them with the capacity to say and do the awful things they’ve done.
“Barry? He’s harmless.”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
She rolls her eyes. “Listen, I understand I need to be cautious, but I won’t turn this into some sort of witch hunt. Now, come on, we’re going to be late. Are you ready to go?”
Phoebe speeds off before I can answer, and I bite back a growl. How she can be demanding and solicitous at the same time is a mystery. She shoots me a prim look, and I click the button on my fob to unlock the doors. She climbs into the GT with one graceful movement, only showing a flash of leg in her slim taupe skirt.
Goddamn skirts.
She doesn’t have to be near me for me to be thinking about them. The way her legs flirt around the hem when she walks or how they make her ass look so goddamn good it drives me to distraction.
I push those tormented thoughts to the back of my mind and reluctantly join her in the GT. The sooner we get this taken care of, the sooner we can follow the leads about the email trace. Then we can catch whoever is stalking her, and she and I can go back to being completely professional. After our very nonprofessional date.
The thought makes me frown.
“So I’ve spoken with the reporter you’ll be meeting today, for real this time. It’s actually a really good opportunity to get some exposure for your career and promote the film. And they’re going to keep the questioning basic for the most part.”
“It isn’t my first interview,” I tell her.
“If they do throw a curveball, feel free to gloss over the question or relate it back to the movie. They may try to sneak beneath your guard, but I think you’ll be okay.”
“After the interview, we have a date.”
This gets her attention. “We do?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already. A deal is a deal.”
“Fine, but only if we can make it Chinese. I’ve been dying for Chinese.”
* * *
After the interview, I pull into a park near her apartment. Containers of fragrant food sit between us. She takes her chicken fried rice happily and digs in while I open a container of sweet and sour chicken.
“Why don’t we start off this date—the only one you’ll ever get, by the way—with taking a break on all the stalking talk.”
“I’m okay with that. I’ve wanted to get to know you for a while.”
Her face reddens, and she chokes on a bite of fried rice. After a sip of Coke, she says, “What? Really?”
I lift a shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I mean, I don’t know. What do you want to know about me?”
“What made you decide to get a concealed carry?”
She snorts, and her tense muscles relax a little. “Of course, that would be your first question. Men. Well, my dad was in the military. Marines, like you. So were my Uncle Jack and my Uncle Logan, who isn’t really my uncle, but I’ve known him my whole life, so I call him uncle. Anyway, they all taught me how to use weapons growing up. Logan’s even a cop now back where I’m from, so I’ve always been around guns.”