Page 14 of Silent Comrade
She stared at him for way too long. “Notsure I buy that.”
A drop of sweat rolled down the hollow ofhis lower spine near his holstered Sig. “Britt. Look, we’re bothtired. You worked hard today at the shop and then at school.”Time to go home and rest, okay? Let’s get you out of thisparticular kill box.
Her sharp intake of breath sliced throughhim. Color leached out of her face, making her electric-blue eyesglow. “I never told you about my job.”
Fuuuck. “One of your classmatesmentioned it.”
“Which one?”
He mentally went through data files like arat in a desperate maze. “Saleisha, I believe. Sits in front of youin History of Fashion.”
“Hmm.” Arms stayed crossed. Eyes remainednarrowed. Her dark-plum lips parted, like he imagined theymagically would right before he kissed her.
Only this wasn’t a fairy tale and he was noPrince Charming.
“Name your three favorite designers,” shesaid.
“What?”
“Do it. And explain why you like them.”
More mental scanning. “Wow. Uh, hard to pickjust three.” Scanning. Scanning. At least Gonzo had given him datato work with, thank God. “Rohit Bal, Stella McCartney mostlybecause I don’t like animal cruelty. And although some woulddisagree, Kenzo Takada, because”—hegrasped for the info Gonzo and Stumpy had given him—“of his work with color and textures and a joyfulapproach to fashion.”
“Those are really all over the map.”
“Is that a crime?” Because literallyeverything else he was doing to keep her safe was indeed a crime.Citing fashion mavens was a fucking pastime in comparison. “Someonecan’t like diverse designers? Or maybe I don’t fit the mold ofsomeone who should enjoy fashion.” Truth: he kind of hated it.
“Um.”
He kept rolling, getting her on her backfoot. Covert-ops Civilian Management 101. Keep the objecting partyoff-balance. Then direct her toward safety.
“Why the interrogation, Britt? I’m just aguy who’s new in town who wanted to take you out for dinner. I’msorry Granny got sick. Bad timing.” He pulled what he hoped was asad guy expression. “A simple ‘thank you’ would work fine.” Herubbed his forehead and huffed for good measure. “Man.”
Her lips dropped into a frown. “Wow.” Sheblinked a few times and pulled her head back. “Hey, I’m supersorry. That was all very judge-y and that’s not like me at all.It’s—you were acting strange andstuff.”
Forcing a smile, he said, “How about wechalk everything up to us both being tired and stressed for variousreasons, and then let me take you home?”
Her facial expression did anotherdeer-in-the-headlights move.
He put up his hands. “Just seeing you safelyhome, I swear. Nothing more. Perfect gentleman here.”
After giving him another flop-sweat inducingstare, she stood and handed him her heavy backpack. “Okay, then.”He slung the bag over his shoulder nearest Britt, so he could keephis outside hand free to grab a weapon or respond to a threat.Awkward positioning, but he’d make it work.
Once they exited the restaurant and strolledon the lightly traveled city sidewalk, Red’s senses went intooverdrive. Every sound translated into a potential threat, and Godhelp him, there were a lot of sounds. The humid, cool evening airdidn’t calm him. Cars rolled down the street, taunting him toidentify make, model, and trajectory based on engine rumble. Aduller roar tasted tangy and smelled of asphalt, indicating thenearby interstate exchange.
Damn it, there weren’t enough securitysensors to protect Britt. He needed more boots on the ground, andthat was the one thing he didn’t have.
Walking between Britt and the street, Redasked about her upcoming senior collection.
After ten minutes of animated explanation,she finished describing the teen-friendly theme. “It’s going to begreat!”
If he had even a small aptitude for fashion,her enthusiasm would have inspired him to start sketching. Heshifted her backpack on his shoulder, the scent of hibiscusdrifting over him from the material.
“Best of all, it will be done-done. Nothingwill stop me now!”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Um, nothing.”
