The unanswered rings had him bowing his head. Why would she want to talk to him again, considering they’d spent all day together and ended on a lousy note? Four rings. Five. Should he leave a message, or call it quits for tonight, at least?
“Hello?” She sounded breathless. “Detective?”
Detective. She kept promoting, then demoting, him.
“Can you make it Tony?”
The silence could only be wary. Finally, “Why are you calling?”
He leaned against the stucco wall. “Will you have dinner with me?” he asked baldly.
Another pause. “You know, if you have questions, you can just ask them.”
He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb until cartilage creaked. “I do have some more. But… I was hoping we could take the evening off.”
More silence. This was one reason he much preferred face-to-face conversations.
“What about your job?” she asked. “What about me flipping out when you arrest my father? Or won’t I be mad, as long as we stop shy of getting between the sheets?”
He winced. “You’re not a suspect. We can…take it slow.” Begging, are you?
“I should say no.”
“Please don’t.” Yep, begging was about right.
He heard the soft whoosh of air. “All right. I’d like to have dinner with you. But, Tony? If this is some kind of trick, or you back off again, that’s it.”
“Understood. Uh…can I pick you up?”
Her “Fine “sounded terse. “I’m home now.”
They agreed on a time and to do something casual, and he ended the call on an astonishing burst of exhilaration.
* * *
WHEN THE DOORBELL RANG, Beth jumped six inches. Stupid. She’d been expecting him. And given that they’d had lunch together—was it only yesterday?—she didn’t know why she was so nervous.
Except she did. She’d spent the past couple of days pining for him like some lovelorn teenager, when she wasn’t worried sick about Dad. This was undoubtedly a bad idea, but she was going to do it anyway.
Tony stood on her doorstep, his appearance unchanged from when they’d parted this afternoon. Black boots, chinos and a tan polo shirt. “Sorry,” he said, glancing down at himself. “Something came up. I didn’t have a chance to go home and change.”
“That’s okay.” She eyed his badge and weapon. “Do you wear a gun on all your dates?”
His grin was wicked and sexy enough to bring her to meltdown. “Turns some women on, you know.”
She rolled her eyes. “I bet.” There probably were cop groupies, even in a town this size. “Let me grab my purse.”
When she came back, he nodded at her skirt. “Pretty.”
“Oh.” Of course she was blushing. “Thank you. I was grungy from working in the garage.”
“While I sat and watched,” he said ruefully.
A moment later, they walked to the shiny red pickup truck he’d driven on Sunday, when he had admitted to coming straight from home, interrupted in the middle of mowing his lawn.
“Where do you live?” she blurted. “I mean, obviously you have a house, since you were mowing, instead of an apartment, or…” She waved toward her townhouse, which had a minimal yard cared for by a landscape service hired by her landlord.
He opened the door for her. “Only about a mile from your dad’s. I own a pretty ordinary rambler.”
Once she’d boosted herself inside the truck’s cab and reached for the seatbelt, he closed her door and went around to get in behind the wheel. Before reaching for his seatbelt, he unclipped the badge and holster from his belt. “Just for you.” As he set it them in the glove compartment and locked it, he asked, “Anything special you’d like? I was thinking of pizza, but I can be talked into something else.”
Pizza sounded good to her, too, and it turned out they both liked the same place, which made her wonder if they’d happened to walk past each other there. If so, he hadn’t caught her eye, and she obviously hadn’t caught his.
The interior of the restaurant felt pleasantly cool. After some discussion, she and Tony decided to share a Margherita pizza, made here with fresh local tomatoes and basil leaves. They both filled their plates at the salad bar, got drinks and chose a booth.