Page 18 of Fast Kill

“Still a neat freak, I see.”

“You can’t be surprised by that.”

“No. You always liked everything organized and uncluttered.” He looked so at home there on her couch, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, one big arm thrown along the back of the cushion.

“Keeps my mind calm.” Guilt wrestled with joy at having him here, but a part of her wondered if she’d crossed a line by letting him in, given that he was likely about to be on the DEA’s radar because of the video footage. She was still holding out hope that they could dismiss him as a suspect soon.

“So Janet said you moved here for a job?” he said, twisting off the cap on his beer.

She looked down at her own beer to avoid his eyes. “Yes.”

He laughed. “Just yes? No other details?”

She shrugged, hoping he’d let the matter drop because she didn’t want to tell him she was with the DEA, just in case. “Boring government job. But the benefit package and pension plan was too good to pass up.”

“Must’ve been, to bring you all the way to D.C. I thought you loved Houston.”

“Nah, I was over it a long time ago, and it’s been a good change. Even in August the humidity here is nothing compared to there.” He’d been her closest friend and companion. Had they seriously fallen into talking about the weather? “What about you? What’ve you been up to since we last talked?”

He broke eye contact as he set the bottle cap on the table and reached for a coaster, because he knew better than to set the bottle down on the wood without one. “Work. All work, all the time.”

She quirked a brow at him. “No other details?”

The smile he gave her was a tiny bit strained. “Not much to tell. I got into business with a few other guys, distributing pharmaceuticals all over the country.”

Pharmaceuticals. Legal drugs. She prayed that really was the case, although the mention of him selling any kind of drugs touched off a zap of unease in the pit of her stomach.

“And what else? You’re not wearing a ring, so I’m guessing you’re not married or engaged. You seeing anyone?”

“No. I’m a self-professed workaholic, I’m afraid.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” he said with a smirk, then sobered. “So you’re not seeing anybody at all?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not at the moment, no. I’ve tried the online dating thing, but it never worked out.”

He frowned. “That sounds…lonely.”

“I guess it can be sometimes, but honestly with the guys I’ve met, I prefer being on my own. You?”

He swallowed a mouthful of beer. “Nothing serious at the moment. I was with one girl for about four years.” He looked down and fiddled with his bottle.

Taylor shifted and leaned forward, something giving her the sense that it bothered him. “What happened?”

His smile was tight. “Irreconcilable differences, I guess you could say. I came home one night from a business trip and she was gone. She’d packed up all her stuff and left without a word.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Given that his addict parents had ditched him at a mall when he was five, that would have cut him to the quick.

He nodded once. “Thanks.” He took another swig of beer.

“Sometimes I think it’s better, being alone. Less painful that way.”

He met her gaze, and she caught a flash of empathy there. “I know it’s been hard for you to trust men. But I don’t think you’re meant to spend the rest of your life alone, Taylor. You’re not built that way, even if you wish you were. One day someone’s gonna come along and throw your safe, controlled world off kilter, in the best way possible. And when that happens, don’t be afraid to let him in. You’ll regret it if you do.”

She stared at him, his words setting off a painful ache beneath her ribs, because they hit far too close to home. Shedidn’ttrust men. It was surreal, how well Dillon still knew her, even after so many years spent apart. He knew every one of her dark, shameful secrets and had never judged her for them.

The truth hurt, didn’t it? All her life she’d kept men at a distance, in a bid to protect herself from being hurt and abandoned. And it was damn lonely sometimes, living alone on her side of the wall she’d erected.

An image of Logan flashed into her head, reminding her of the way butterflies danced in her stomach whenever she was around him. He was the opposite of safe and controlled, a true adrenaline junkie who seemed determined to milk every ounce of excitement and action possible out of life.

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