She needed to get home.
She was tired. And traumatized. And based on her reactions to Wes, clearly out of her mind at the moment.
New locks and a good night’s rest were what she needed.
Only another hour or so, and she’d never have to see Wesley Garrett again.
And he’d never have to know that he’d just bought a delicious dinner for the woman who’d taken him down in court.
chapter
FIVE
Wes and Rebecca beat the locksmith to her house, which was a small but pristine Craftsman bungalow near Zilker Park. The prime location must’ve cost her a fortune, but the place looked homey and unassuming. The porch light was on, illuminating a bright-red door and pale-gray siding. Her shiny, black BMW was parked under the carport, and nothing looked disturbed.
Wes parked the van in front of the house and cut the engine. “Well, I’ll take it as a good sign that your car is still here. If those guys showed up with your keys, they would’ve taken your ride.”
Rebecca frowned. “No. I didn’t have my car keys with me since I walked today, but at least everything looks the same as how I left it. Plus, my car keys are hanging on a peg in the kitchen. They wouldn’t be hard to find.”
Wesley eyed her. Her voice was confident, but she kept smoothing the leg of her scrubs, her hands like nervous birds not knowing where to settle. He had the weirdest urge to hug her and tell her it was going to be all right, to take that fear from her. But a sure way to freak her out even further would be for some strange dude she’d just met to hug her. He was freaked out enough for both of them that he even had that urge. “Hey, why don’t you tell me where your spare key is hidden, and I’ll go in and check the house for you first?”
There. That was a reasonable, not weird way to help.
She glanced his way, frowning. “If the alarm’s on, I need to turn it off, and I don’t want to sit out here. That’ll stress me out more than going in with you. I’m the only one who will be able to tell if anything’s been moved anyway.”
“Fair enough. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable is fine. But the minute something seems off or out of place, we bail and call the cops. Pinch my arm or something to signal me.”
Her frown deepened, a little line appearing between her brows, as if she couldn’t quite figure him out.
He couldn’t stop his smile. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re trying to figure out a really hard math problem.”
“I wouldn’t make this face for math. I’m good at math.” She let out a breath. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you’re being so nice to me. You don’t…know me.”
“Does that matter? If I knew you, would I not want to help you out?”
She stif
fened. “What?”
He tilted his head. “I mean, are you secretly some evil comic-book villain who’s about to take over the city? Or do you have plans to kill me and store my body in your basement when we get inside?”
Her pinched expression flattened into something droll. “Austin houses don’t have basements.”
“Whew.” He wiped his brow. “I’m safe.”
She snorted and then covered her nose and mouth like she was surprised the sound had escaped. “You’re kind of strange, Wesley Garrett.”
He shrugged. “I get that a lot.” And that was a helluva lot better than what most people probably called him these days. “Now, are we going to bravely search your house like two TV detectives? Because I am so down for that right now. I need to bang open doors and yell, ‘Clear!’”
She laughed, the soft, husky sound filling the space between them and sending a pleasant ripple through him. The feeling was so unfamiliar that it stalled his breath for a second. How long had it been since he’d been around someone he could simply joke with and relax around? Someone who wasn’t looking at him like he was damaged goods? Or who wasn’t checking him for signs of a backslide?
He didn’t get clean-slate conversations like this anymore. Not with his family. Not with friends. Not even with himself. Rebecca felt like a gulp of clean, fresh air. He wanted to close his eyes and inhale. In this moment, he could be a man with no past. He could be whoever he wanted to be. And right now, he wanted to be the guy who was making this woman laugh.
She cocked her head. “You say that like you’ve been planning to do this TV detective routine for a while.”
“It’s a life goal,” he said solemnly. “I mean, I’ve done it at home alone, but that really isn’t as fun. Plus, it pisses off the neighbors. All those banging doors.”
She laughed again, and he felt like he’d won some kind of prize. She seemed like someone who didn’t give those laughs away easily.