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The glass door opened with a silent whoosh, but the bell overhead had the hostess’s head popping up at our arrival. A groan rumbled in my throat at the amazing smells that wafted over me. The younger blonde woman took one look at Slade, completely ignoring me, and literally sighed, slumping over the little wooden stand as she visually devoured him.
“How many?” she asked, twirling a lock of bleached-blonde hair around a finger. I snorted when she squeezed her arms, pushing her hard, round tits together.
Not using his big boy words, Slade held up two fingers and motioned to an open booth in the back. One I noticed offered both sides the ability to see most of the restaurant’s dining area and entrance. Once seated, I shifted along the fake leather bench to lean back against the wall, keeping one eye on the busy diner and the other on Slade.
“Here are your menus.” I blinked, having forgotten the hostess was still there. “Is there anything else I can get you?” She was completely ignoring me yet again. Apparently, she had a thing for tatted giants. She fluttered her long fake eyelashes at Slade, who refused to make eye contact, simply waving her off while glaring at the menu.
I gave a low whistle when she finally took the hint and walked away with a huff. “You have it that bad for Rain that you won’t even acknowledge someone like her?” I inclined my head back the way we came.
“Been there, done that,” he muttered without looking up.
“Her specifically or…?”
“Her type.”
“Which is…?”
“You always ask this many fucking questions to someone you just met?” I just shrugged in response, and he released an exasperated sigh that, for some reason, made me happy. “That type. Looking for something shallow, a one-night type thing. I’m too old for that shit. Plus, they all think they’re getting the man I was fifteen years ago.”
There was so much to profile from what all he’d just revealed. But first, I needed to verify if my assumptions about him and Rain were correct.
“You asked me, and I’ll turn that question on you now. You and Rain, there anything beyond what I saw today?”
A harried, older waitress appeared before he could answer, asking for our orders. Having not even glanced at the menu, I ordered the breakfast special, knowing whatever came I would scarf down. I was so fucking hungry, the pain in my stomach was distracting. The amazing smells of greasy food and fresh coffee made my mouth water to the point that I worried about drooling in front of my new friend. Slade ordered some complex egg white omelet with a side of fruit and whole grain toast, then handed off the laminated menu.
He caught me watching him. “What? Some habits are hard to break from those years of watching every damn thing I put in my body. Plus, since I can’t work out like I used to, my wrecked body making me feel every hit I took those years playing football, I have to watch what I eat if I want to fit into the clothes I spent way too much fucking money on.”
I snorted. “College or pro?”
“Both. I loved it, every aspect of the game. The strategy and expecting your opponent’s next move, plus wiping the fucking turf with their asses, was a blast. But then the wear and tear all those years of playing started showing. One critical hit to my knee and I was done.”
His gaze took a far-off look. It was clear he missed it and hated that he had to give it up. That had to be difficult, loving something you’d done your whole life only for it to not be an option anymore one day.
“Football makes sense,” I said, spinning the tightly wrapped paper napkin and silverware along the table between us. “You’re a big fucker.”
Slade’s lips curled into what I now considered his version of a smile. “You’d be smart to remember that if you get any ideas of starting something with Rain while you’re here.”
“So, you two are together?”
A lost, almost sad expression flashed across his face, erasing his normal scowl. “No.”
“Because you’re not into beautiful women who are brilliant, funny, and quirky as hell?”
“Why are we discussing this instead of the dead man we left back at that house?”
The squeak of rubber soles against the floor jerked our attention to the now-frozen, wide-eyed waitress who held a glass of water in each hand. With what I hoped was a calming smile, I grabbed both from her with a mumbled thank-you. Sometimes I forgot how our casual conversations about murder and crime scenes sounded to those around us. Hopefully, she wouldn’t call the cops on us. That was always a hassle.
“We’re discussing your interest in the good doctor because I’ve looked over these cases a dozen times now and still can’t nail down enough for a specific profile. There are too many contradicting elements. Each case varies just enough. I have a feeling that with these complications, I’ll be here a while, and if I am, working side by side with you and Rain, I need to know what I’m walking into.”
“Plus, you’re interested,” he hedged with a dark glint in his green eyes.
“Plus, I’m very interested.” And I hopefully wasn’t imagining things back there at the house. The spark that smoldered when we’d worked together in Nashville seemed to still be there for her too. Now I just needed to know if Slade would be a hindrance if I wanted to pursue Rain. “You obviously like her. You wouldn’t do all the shit I’ve already witnessed just because you want to keep her safe. There’s more to it than that.”
His massive shoulders rose and fell in a noncommittal shrug, and he took a slow sip of water. “Even if there was more than me just wanting to protect her, it doesn’t matter. We’re colleagues, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”
His dejected tone made a sharp pinch radiate in my chest. With a pained wince, I rubbed at my sternum, trying to ease the ache.
Why in the hell did a man like Slade Taylor think he didn’t deserve a chance with someone like Rain?