Page 11 of Island Homecoming

She knew what he meant. Was afraid she knew exactly what he was about to ask. “I’m a temporary consultant. But yes, it’s likely folks will see me as one of the cops.”

“The way they saw me as a thief.”

“Nash, it’s been a long couple of days. Please make your point.”

“All right.” He braced his hands on his lean hips. “You should go out with me. We’ll have dinner in public.”

“That’s your idea of restitution?” Right this second it sounded more like her idea of purgatory. Not quite hell—Nash was good company and easy on the eyes. But going out with him was definitely a penance. For those same reasons.

She’d loved him once, long ago, as much as a teenager could love anyone. And she’d hurt him, as only an idealistic, unyielding young woman could. He was right, she should’ve known better. Should’ve stood by him.

Watching him now, she realized he knew exactly where her mind had gone.

“Afraid to be seen in public with me?” he taunted.

“Of course not. We’re in public right now.”

“And based on your body language you might as well be interrogating me.”

A serious exaggeration, but clearly, he wouldn’t let this slide. “Name your terms, Nash.”

“I’ll pick you up and we’ll have dinner at the Inn, take a short walk along the boardwalk, and then I’ll drive you home.”

“Sounds lovely,” she said, her voice flat. It would definitely serve his purpose of being seen with her in a friendly way. She could do without the familiar tingle that occurred when she thought about riding shotgun with Nash. Memories swamped her. Once he’d been her favorite person. They’d had so much fun together, such an easy time talking about anything and making out when they didn’t want to talk anymore.

She remembered his sexy grin and his sly smile when he was about to be ornery. Neither of them were smiling now. “You’re staying at your parents place?”

She nodded.

“It’s settled. I’ll see you at seven.”

“Not tonight, Nash. I—”

“Reneging already?” He straightened to his full height.

“No.” Did he have to be a jerk about this? “I’m on shift tonight. Seven to four.”

“Seriously?”

“Police business never ends,” she quipped. “New kid on the schedule gets the shift no one else wants.”

“Right.” His gaze drifted back to his crew. “So. When are you available?”

She wasn’t getting out of this. She didn’t deserve to. “If you’re set on dinner, I can do Wednesday or Thursday.”

He narrowed his gaze. She wasn’t sure if he was assessing her honesty or considering his personal schedule. “Thursday’s best,” he said at last. “We’ve got a job on Wednesday that might go late.”

Perfect. She had plenty of time to stress about it. “Thursday it is. See you around.” She hustled over to the driver’s side, rounding the back of the car. It seemed rude to walk on the grass he was there to maintain.

“Jess.”

She paused in the open car door. “Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

A dozen thoughts raced through her mind. She could tell him she wasn’t an active part of the investigation, that she was merely hired muscle. Something in his expression warned her those details were irrelevant. “I will.”

With that promise, she made her escape.

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