He grinned up at the ceiling.
Marli emerged from Cactus Jack's onto the dark sidewalk and glanced around. There were a few people on the street, but her stomach quivered and her muscles tightened. Guilt, anger and lack of sleep had shredded her nerves over the past two weeks, eating away at them until she was on edge all the time. She hurried to her car, parked in a nearby parking garage. Damn, she hated parking garages.
Sounds bounced off the concrete floors and walls, and twice she stopped to listen, heart in her throat, convinced she'd heard another set of footsteps behind her. But it was just the echo of her own shoes on the cement.
She locked the doors as soon as she got into the car, having quickly assessed the back seat to make sure it was empty. She sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, taking deep breaths and trying to slow her racing heart.
Usually a young kid worked in this parking garage, but tonight she was glad it was a man around her age. It made her feel minutely safer as she handed over her money and waited for the arm to rise so she could exit.
Tonight her anxiety levels were escalated by the sexual tension that had simmered between Trey and her for the last two hours. She hadn't been running; there'd been nothing to make her heart beat more quickly, no trigger for her rapid breathing in the bar. It was him. He'd gotten her all agitated, even more than she already was. That was the last thing she needed right now.
He made her curious. He was interesting. Dangerous, yet protective. A cop, a big jock football player, but with intelligence and hints of pain in those intense blue eyes. He made her feel warm and shivery, and damn it, watching those long, sexy fingers of his made her think about having those hands on her body.
He was a stranger passing through town, and she'd never see him again. Instead of calming her, the thought was strangely disappointing.
She drove home and parked in the driveway in front of her duplex condo, lit up like an office tower in downtown LA. She'd left all the lights on, to hell with the electricity bill she was going to get. For the last few weeks, she'd even slept with the lights on.
She slipped in through her front door and locked it behind her. Usually she took such pleasure in walking into her small home. She'd finally made enough money to buy her own place and she loved it. Sleek and modern, it was just her style, with open rooms, pale maple floors and chrome accents. But tonight she didn't feel pleasure because it looked nice. Tonight, she just felt relief at locking the door behind her and closing out the world.
Taking a deep breath now she was in the sanctuary of her home, she dropped her purse on the side table and went up the stairs to her bedroom, leaving the lights blazing. In her bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans. In her T-shirt and panties, she walked into the adjoining bathroom. Slate tiles in warm shades of grey and taupe covered the floor and walls. The huge spa tub occupied most of the space, with a separate shower enclosed in glass walls. Her own private retreat.
She was so wound up she knew she'd never sleep. She'd only been sleeping a couple of hours a night for the last few weeks, and when she did sleep, nightmares jolted her awake. A bath would help relax her. Soon steam filled the room and she slipped into the blissful, warm embrace of the water, the muted rumble of the jets blocking out all other sound.
It wasn't the fine cuisine or even the Pale Ale that drew Trey back to Cactus Jack's the next night. Rather, it was this strange, irrational belief he might see Marli.
He had no idea why she'd been there, sitting all by herself, checking out everyone in the place, even though she hated country music and didn't drink. She was such a mystery.
He liked a mystery, liked solving puzzles, finding answers.
She made him curious.
Once again he headed to the bar, liking the end seat where Marli had been last night so he could see the entire room.
A different bartender was working tonight. Trey ordered another Surf Coast Pale Ale. While he waited, he surveyed the bar, much as Marli had last night.
No Marli. He glanced at his watch. Still early.
He watched people dancing and having fun. It was amazing how alone you could feel in a crowded bar. Even more alone than he felt at night sitting in his empty apartment. He nursed his beer, sweeping the room with his eyes.
For some reason--he had no idea why--he turned his head and there she was, looking right at him from the other side of the L-shaped bar. Her gaze met his at that exact moment. Her eyes widened in surprise.
He just looked at her, waiting. Would she come over? He resisted the urge to beckon her over. If she didn't come, he'd go over there. But not right away.
She was skittish and any hint of pushing on his part made her back off. He didn't want to scare her, so he waited, tapping his fingers on the bar.
She hesitated, then she slowly moved forward.
He smiled, looked down at his hands clasping the beer bottle and waited. When he sensed her next to him, he looked up. "Hi."
"Hi." Her smile was tentative. "Um...anyone sitting here?" She gestured at the stool beside him. He shook his head.
She slid onto the stool.
"Back again to drink soda and listen to bad music?"
Her lips curved in a hesitant smile. "Yeah."
Trey looked for the bartender to order her a drink. The bartender glanced their way, and Trey lifted a hand, but the guy turned away. Trey frowned. Huh. No tip for him. But a moment later the bartender arrived to take their order. Trey ordered another beer and glanced at Marli. "Diet Coke?"
"Yes, please."
When the bartender slid a large glass across the bar to her, she sent him a quick smile of thanks.
"So you're still in town," she said. "I thought you'd be on your way to San Francisco."
He shrugged. "It's nice here."
"Yeah. Rocky Harbor's a nice town."
"Maybe tonight you'll dance with me," he suggested softly. "Since now I'm not so strange."
She smiled, but her eyes were guarded. "Maybe," she said. "But you're still a stranger. Really."
"It's funny how I feel I know you, though."
She looked away from him, across the bar. "Yeah, I know."
He watched her breasts rise as she took a deep breath. She wore jeans again, skinny jeans with a long, floaty, green top and round-toed flat shoes.
"Would you like something to eat?" Trey asked.
Her eyes came back to him, green and gold and sparkly. "Are you having another steak?"
"Nah. I ate already. Just wondered if you were hungry."
She considered that. "You know, I could eat."
Trey had a feeling he wasn't the only one who'd been skipping meals lately. He grabbed a menu from a stack at the end of the bar and handed her one.
"Would you share some nachos with me?" she asked after a moment of perusing the menu.
"Sure." Again, he got the bartender's attention. The guy sidled up to him, barely looking at him, and Trey ordered the food.
With a grunt, the bartender disappeared. Trey shrugged. "Not very talkative, for a bartender," he commented. "Did you work today?"
"I tried. I've had a hard time focusing lately. But I have contracts, obligations..." She sighed. "My heart's not in it right now, though."
"You know, it helps to talk sometimes."
She eyed him. "Do you follow your own advice, pal?"
"Okay, you got me. Never mind."
"You know, if I was going to talk to anyone, it might be you."
"Why is that?"
"I don't know." She tipped her head to one side. Her long curls swung down past one shoulder. "You give this impression of...security. Like you don't judge people."