“I have no idea.”
“Don’t quit. It’ll get better.”
A slow smile grew on him. “I won’t quit if you won’t.”
“Quit what?” Now I just sounded dumb.
“Your show.”
I hadn’t quit. I’d just taken a break, why didn’t people understand that?
Because it looked like I quit. Because if I wasn’t making plans to go back to it, it meant I’d quit.
“Why not?” I said, feeling contrary. “They have Ariel, Priestess of the Night, now. She can handle it.”
“There’s room for both of you. You love your show, Kitty. You’re good at it.”
We were both leaning on the table now, within reach of each other, our feet almost touching underneath. Proximity was doing strange things to me. Sending a pleasant warmth through my gut. Making me smile like an idiot.
It was getting very hard for me to imagine not having Ben around.
I bit my lip, thought for a moment. Grinning, I took a chance. “Better be careful. You keep saying nice things about me I might fall for you or something.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “And you’re cute, smart, funny, great in bed—”
I kicked him under the table—gently. “Flatterer.”
“Whatever it takes to keep you coming after me when I go around the bend.”
I touched his hand, the one lying flat on the table. Curled my fingers around it. He squeezed back, almost desperately. He was still scared. Getting better at hiding it, at overcoming it. But still scared, at least a little.
“Of course I will. We’re pack.”
He nodded, picked up my hand, brought it to his lips. Kissed the fingers. Then without a word he grabbed the check, slid out of the booth, and went to the front counter to pay.
Bemused, I followed.
Back in Walsenburg the next day, Espinoza was late for our meeting. The last meeting before the hearing. The last chance to convince him to drop the charges against Cormac. Ben had shaved, gotten a haircut, and looked as polished as I’d ever seen him. He had on his best suit this time. Even I put on slacks and a blouse and put my hair up. He paced along the wall with the window, in a conference room in the courthouse. Slowly, with measured steps. Not an angry, desperate, wolfish pacing. Just nerves. He held a pen and tapped it against his opposite hand, glanced out the window as he passed it.
I sat in a chair by the wall and watched him. He was a handsome, competent, intelligent, determined man. And none of that was enough to help Cormac.
The door opened, and the young prosecutor blazed in, like a general in wartime.
“Mr. O’Farrell, sorry to keep you waiting.” He glanced at me, his look questioning.
Ben was right on top of things. “No problem. This is Kitty Norville, she’s helping me with the case.”
Espinoza nodded, and his smile seemed more like a smirk. “The infamous uninjured Kitty Norville.”
“I heal fast.”
“Real fast, apparently.”
“Yeah.”
“Too bad for Mr. Bennett. If you’d ended up in the hospital he might have had a case.”
Of all the low, blunt, arrogant, shitty things to say…