Page 16 of Deep Tide

Sean took the seat across from her. “Two-thirds of the people here are eating Tiki’s, which is probably a good sign.”

“I told you. Did you think I’d steer you wrong?”

“No.”

The banter faded as they settled in to wait for their number to be called. Sean looked around, and Leyla watched him. In his T-shirt and jeans with his two-day beard, he almost looked like a tourist.

Almost.

She’d noticed the bulge above his boot where he had an ankle holster. Like her brothers, he probably never went anywhere unarmed. Cops were cops, twenty-four seven.

She sipped her Corona. It was cool and bitter, and she realized she was parched. She took another sip and set the bottle down, tracing the condensation on the glass with her glittery silver fingernail. Her nails were usually a lost cause because of her work, but she’d splurged on a manicure for the wedding.

A thought hit her like a gut punch.

Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been at the wedding, laughing and mingling and toasting her brother’s future. All that time, Amelia lay dead in an alley.

“Leyla?”

She glanced up. Sean was watching her closely. Again, he had the sense not to ask whether she was okay.

“Have you had a chance to crash yet?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I was gone all day. I just got home when you showed up.”

He watched her eyes, as if gauging her reaction. He had probably been to countless crime scenes and dealt with some awful untold number of victims—the ones who had lived and the ones who hadn’t. He seemed to understand that her emotions were bouncing around like pinballs, and she felt intensely grateful not to have to explain everything.

She cleared her throat. “I was just realizing how this time last night—this exact time—I was walking around chitchatting and mentally calculating the ratio of hors d’oeuvres to people.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Seems surreal now.”

He nodded.

“I wish...” Her stomach knotted as she tried to put her thoughts into words.

He leaned closer. “What?”

“Forget it,” she said.

“What?”

She shook her head.

Their number was called, and he stood. “Want another?” He glanced at her beer, and she was startled to see she’d managed to drink most of it. Her cheeks warmed. How had that happened?

“I’m good,” she said.

He went to get the food, and she looked around, suddenly uneasy sitting alone at the table. Which was ridiculous. She was surrounded by people. Nothing bad would happen here.

She took a tiny sip of beer. She was all over the map today, and she needed to snap out of it. Soon. Before she did something impulsive like unravel in front of this man she barely knew. Or invite him home with her.

He returned to the table with a pair of red plastic baskets. He’d ordered his fish fried with ranch sauce, while Leyla had ordered grilled with mango salsa. She popped a tortilla chip into her mouth.

Sean shook Tabasco onto his tacos before chomping down. She could tell from the look on his face that he liked it.

Leyla ate another chip, not sure how her stomach would do with fish tonight.

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