“Date?” Conrad asked, walking over.
She turned and faced him, then leaned against the wall, keeping a few feet of distance between them. “A double. Hey, speaking of, do you know a single man who might be willing to have dinner with me? Unless this is a conflict of interest?”
“I’m still confused.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Double date?”
“I’m setting Beau up with this really great girl, possibly, but he insists I bring a date too. Therefore, I’m on the prowl.”
“He insists,” Conrad echoed.
“I think he’s shy, and I’m a safety net.” Maybe. “Everyone needs a support system.” And moments ago, Beau had been willing to be hers. Right now, she held his homemade soup in her hands. So yes, she would be his support—his friend— in return.
“I get that. But why do you want to meet one of my friends?” Hard tone. Harder glint in his eyes.
Was he…jealous?
Her heart thudded, and she shuffled around him to set the new soup on the counter. But she didn’t take her seat. She kept her back to him. This was about to turn embarrassing, but she decided to spill the truth. “No one in town is interested in me and that’s okay, because I’m not interested in any of them either. Truth be told, I’m pretty anti-relationships.”
“Explain,” he said before she could continue.
Well. He asked for it so… “I’m a victim of the Ladling curse, and that’s all I’m willing to say.”
He moved directly behind her, the scent of spice enveloping her, leaving her weak in the knees. She breathed deep.
Conrad sifted a lock of her hair between his fingers. “One day soon, we’ll dissect this curse together. I want every detail, and you’ll give them to me. But I won’t be introducing you to any of my friends, Jane. When you go on that double date with Beau, I will be at your side. Me.”
Her mouth parted and for a heart-stopping moment, Jane thought Conrad might spin her around and kiss her.
In the end, he put his lips at her ear and rasped, “Goodnight, sweetheart.” Then he stalked out of her house, leaving her reeling.
Chapter Seven
Anne Mathis
Shhh, I’m sleeping.
Plot 859, Garden of Memories
From bad to better to the best.
Jane occupied the passenger seat of Beau’s pickup truck. Muted sunlight filled the cab, filtered through the thousand layers of dust that covered every window. On both her left and right, trees whizzed past. Cars, too. Behind the steering wheel, Beau brooded at a level of ten on a scale of five. The perfect amount. Not too much, not too little.
He’d kept his word and called this morning. Plus, he’d agreed to her plan. Everything from the trip to SCP—Summerhill Community Pediatric—to the date with Eunice Park or Ana Irons. He hadn’t even protested more than a dozen times.
Protests her deepest fears echoed. No, no. Not fears. Wisdoms. Experience told her: Don’t take Conrad.
But a new voice rose from the shadows. Hope whispered, Give him a shot.
If she guarded her heart, keeping it locked inside a concrete cage, she probably wouldn’t encounter any problems. Except, what if there was already a crack spreading through the cement?
Goodnight, sweetheart.
“Explain why we’re doing this again.” Beau merged the truck onto the highway, picking up speed.
Jane pulled her thoughts from the seductive purr of memory and focused on the matter at hand. “The murder victim volunteered at SCP. I’d like to question other volunteers and patients about their thoughts of him. Who slept with him or heard rumors about someone else who did, and whether or not they ever hunted treasures with him. But that’s all.”
“Oh, that’s all?”
His dry tone drew a laugh from her. “We’re also having fun,” she said. “Well, as much fun as we can at a memorial service. And I can’t thank you enough for doing this. For everything.” When she’d gotten sick in the past, she’d phoned a temp agency or put a Closed sign on the door, and let the place handle itself.
“I had the time. No big deal.”
Wrong. Big deal. Huge. “You deserved to be paid for your work, Beau. Please, I’m begging you, give me a bill.” Did he think he owed her for something in their childhood?
“Sure,” he said, but she didn’t believe him.
Frustrating man! “In the meantime,” she said with a firm nod, “I’m buying your lunch and filling your truck with gas, and I won’t hear any arguments on the matter. I’m also planning the best double date in the history of histories. In fact, I’ve already found your perfect match.” Why not rip the bandage?
His brows dropped. “My match?”
“She’s amazing, I swear! You will love her, probably. She—”
“No, don’t tell me.” He gave a clipped shake of his head. Already nervous? “I’ll learn what I need to know on the date. Are you bringing Conrad?”