Page 6 of Venice Heat (Urban Heat 2)

She laughed. “No, you don’t. So are you going to answer my question or what?”

Now he hesitated and pulled his hands from his pockets to spread his fingers while struggling to come up with the correct word in English. “Maybe it’s em-bass?”

Her beautiful eyes widened. “Imbecile?”

“I don’t know that word.”

Amusement brightened her face, drawing him in as if she’d cast a spell. He shoved his hands back into his pockets to keep from touching her.

“Uncomfortable?” he suggested.

“Oh, I got you. Embarrassed!”

“Yes, embarrassed.” Heat rose in his face, and he turned to stride across the street. Her shorter legs worked harder to keep up, and realizing his rudeness, he slowed down.

“You didn’t want to go out with me, but it wasn’t because you were embarrassed to be seen with me?” she said, still working through his weak explanation. She simplified the situation with her words, but she could not know the complications. He didn’t enlighten her. “So tell me, Eiji Tanaka, what do you do for a living?”

“I am a policeman.”

“Interesting, and I like your accent.” He studied her face, and she grinned. “For real. I’m not like those other idiots who teased you. I

’ve always loved the way Japanese people speak, in their own language and in English.”

He uttered nothing more than a grunt, which seemed to amuse her further.

“So what are you doing in California? You said you’ve been here only a few months.”

“My cousin.” He clenched his hands in his pockets. “She was killed a few months ago. She had lived in America for ten years, seeking fame and fortune in movies.”

She touched his arm. “I’m so sorry. I know how hard that can be losing family.”

The truth of her understanding was reflected in the sadness in her eyes. He nodded. “Izumi left me her house and some savings. I had to take time to learn how to handle real estate here. Someone advised me to rent the house. You are my first.”

“You did good.”

He frowned at her treating him as if he were a child learning a new skill, but she laughed. This woman was so carefree and full of life. She seemed to whip about him like a whirlwind, sweeping him along.

“Let’s go somewhere to eat,” she suggested. “I’m hungry, and I only had a light sandwich earlier. Later, we could walk along the boardwalk, if you want.”

He shook his head, and when she appeared disappointed, he explained, “We can eat, but it’s after midnight. The curfew is from midnight until five a.m. No access to the boardwalk.”

“Well that bites. Okay, food then.” She rubbed her flat belly, stirring his desire for something other than tabemono. “A sushi place?” They were just passing a Japanese restaurant.

“No, whatever you like,” he assured her.

“This place looks good. I’m surprised they’re open, but I guess some establishments cater to the late-night tourists. You get the munchies after clubbing sometimes.”

She took his hand, and Eiji allowed her to link her fingers with his. He followed her through the doors into the restaurant and found a cafeteria-type setting. People lined up along a glass-encased counter and slid trays along it to indicate to servers what foods they’d like. The atmosphere was familiar to Eiji, which relaxed him considerably. He selected a tray behind Shae and surveyed the offerings of barbecue brisket, Moroccan chicken, mac and cheese, tossed salad, and even rice. All of the dishes were labeled with what they were, but he elected to point out what he wanted instead. At a separate counter, he watched Shae choose two different types of dessert.

“You are too small to eat all of that,” he told her.

She simply wriggled her eyebrows at him and chose another dessert for him. At their final destination, a man worked behind a counter making fresh-squeezed lemonade. Shae chose blueberry mint, but he went with a simple coffee, and she shook her head.

He insisted on paying for everything, and they found outside seating at a table with a wide umbrella over it. The restaurant had arranged live plants to line the courtyard, allowing for privacy and separation from the surrounding area. Soft yet adequate lighting allowed them to see without trouble. He hadn’t been to this restaurant before and was glad Shae selected it, as long as the food tasted good.

Shae watched him scoop up his Moroccan chicken with rice. “Good?”

“Mmm, very.” He forgot about his own meal when her soft lips parting distracted him. When she glanced up, he looked away. To force his mind to acceptable areas, he questioned her about herself. “What do you do?”

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