Page 5 of Merrick

She was also more comfortable with less crowd. His smile came as he watched her stride into the darkened space, her cop eyes flickering around the room, giving brief nods to those who called out to her.

And she was a woman who captured eyes. He often thought that it was because of the fact that she did not give a rat’s ass about fashion and that was mainly the appeal.

But it was much more than that. Margo had the long lean and hungry look of a feline. He privately labeled her as a panther or a tiger. Her jeans were faded as was her shirt. She had on an old jacket that was used to cover her shoulder holster, and her hair had several tendrils escaping the tight bun.

Unlike other females, she had not seen the need to tidy up and slap on makeup. Not that she needed it. He was once again bowled over by the fact that she was in her fifties. She had the looks and grace of someone twenty years younger.

“I ordered for you!” He just managed to anchor himself down as he started to rise to pull out her chair. She would not appreciate being treated like a damsel in distress and such niceties were lost on her.

Her tapered brows lifted as she turned the chair around and straddled it, hooking her feet on the rungs. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous.”

“Cold beer and a sizzling burger.” He sent her a charming grin as he nudged the beer towards her.

“You think you know me.” She accepted the beer and twisted the cork off.

“I would like to think so. You are not so complicated.”

“If you say so.” Her eyes roamed the room restlessly as if searching for someone. “I see Jenkins is back from his stint at the Federal office.”

“Yeah.” Michael took a sip of his own beer. “And much more of an asshole than before.”

That made her smile. “So, nothing has changed.”

“Not much. You look good.”

She eyed him as she sipped her beer. “If that’s your feeble way of trying to get laid, you’re not doing a bang-up job.”

He shrugged an impatient shoulder. “Christ woman! Can’t you take a frigging compliment?”

“You know how I feel about those.”

He was saved from responding when their meals were brought to the table.

“Hey superstar. Welcome back.” The owner of the bar, a middle-aged black man with an ample girt, beamed at her.

“Thanks, Bert. How’s the wife and kids?”

“Perfect. The new baby is like a charm. Sleeps through the night.”

“How many kids in total?”

His smile widened. “Four.”

“Ouch. My sympathies to Maureen.”

“She loves it. Meal’s on the house. No, arguments.” Without waiting for any, he ambled away to serve someone else.

“Good man.”

“His place was robbed three weeks ago.”

She frowned at him and picked up her burger. “Did they catch the assholes?”

“With the cash and liquor in their possession. A silent alarm went off and every cop within a five-mile radius responded.”

“They were either morons or new to the area. This place is always crawling with cops.”

“Precisely. It is good to have you back.” He looked over at her and shook his head. “There’s nothing sexual about the damn comment, so take it at face value.”

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