Page 85 of Walking the Edge

“What?” She stiffened, ready for a body blow.

“I thought we were a team.” He crossed his arms. “But you seem to have a problem with that concept.”

* * *

Somehow, she had to get Mitch back on her side. Cath ate the remaining peanuts, needing the energy for this confession. “I made a mistake.”

“Glad you’re aware.” He shook his head as if she were hopeless, but the ice in his brown eyes thawed. Or was that her imagination? She bent the beer mat in half. “I should have trusted you enough to tell you I was coming here. I apologize.”

Please give me another chance. She clutched her hands. “How can I make this up to you?”

What a loaded question. She shook her head, but her words still hung between them.

Naturally, Mitch picked up the glove she’d thrown down and turned a heated look on her. Her insides melted like an ice cream cone on a hot sidewalk. He leaned forward. Goose bumps rippled down her neck. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he stroked a finger down her cheek, leaving a wake of frothing heat. Plus, more goose bumps. “You want to make this up to me? I can think of positions we didn’t try that might be interesting.”

She glared at him. “Can you please be serious for a moment?”

“I need an incentive.” His lips quivered.

He looked determined to run with this joke. She might as well go along. “What do you want?”

“What are you offering?” He smirked.

Not another night of passion. Not yet, anyway. “We need to talk about something besides sex.”

“The birds and bees make the world go around.”

“I have heard that.” While she was glad he could still tease her, they needed to be serious here. “Can I explain something?”

“As long as it’s not another excuse for avoiding my calls.”

“You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you?”

“You would be too.” His hands clenched the back of the stool between them.

Usually when Mitch read her mind she frantically raised a wall, but right now she wanted back onto the team. “You’re right, but I’m not intentionally keeping things from you.”

“Is that so?” He arched an eyebrow.

“The honest truth is that I don’t trust easily.”

“Unfortunately, not even when you pinkie swear.”

She laughed, and the static between them vanished.

“You want to give your brother a little more time to show up?” Mitch lifted his chin in the direction of the front window. “I see a free table. We can watch for him from there.”

She tossed the mess she’d made of a napkin and looked around. Distinct faces had become visible in the thinning crowd. Could that be—? No, not Les. She shrugged and looked at Mitch. “Might as well.”

“You want anything else to drink?” Mitch touched the back of her hand.

Her blood hummed in every direction—from the slightest touch. Maybe they could make a connection, but she needed to put some things behind her first. “I could use another ginger ale.” And some courage.

“You’re turning into Carrie Nation.”

“I don’t drink when I need to keep my wits.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t do anything outrageous.” Mitch signaled the barkeep.

---