Karen Rose - Count to Ten

She looked mad. Why was she mad? "What the hell are you doing here?"

Here ? He looked around, saw the fence, the security post. Prison. Oh, yeah . The drive out from the city came back with clarity. So much for a surreptitious tail. Damn . He'd been made. "Um…" His mind was utterly blank. His body utterly hard.

Her eyes still snapping, she stared at him. "Did you really think I didn't see you?"

Some of the blood was returning to his brain, making things more comfortable on both counts. "Maybe. Okay, yeah, I didn't think you saw me. I blew it, didn't I?"

Her frown softened. "Yeah, but your intentions were good. You have a nice nap?"

He felt his cheeks burn, as if his dream were a scarlet letter branded on his forehead. "Yeah. I did." He looked up at the prison building, its lights glaringly bright against the night sky, then back at her. "If I ask what brought you here, will you tell me it's none of my business?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You are the nosiest of men."

"Sorry."

"You also seem to be nice and relatively harmless."

His dream flashed back, vivid and clear and in full Technicolor. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt either of them. "Most of the time, yes."

"And you did bring me coffee twice today and a hot dog yesterday."

That sounded promising. "And I let you pick where we ate lunch, both days."

Her lips curved. "Yes, you did." The small smile faded. "I was visiting my sister."

It was not what he'd expected. "What?"

"You heard me. My younger sister's in for armed robbery. Shocked?"

"Yeah. I have to say I am. How long has she been in?"

"Twelve years. I come during visiting hours like everybody else. I don't want anybody inside to know her sister's a cop."

Stunned, he had no idea what to say. One side of her mouth lifted, likely in sympathy for his inability to speak. "Like you said yesterday, sometimes it's worse with cops' kids. My sister is paying for some really bad decisions. If she doesn't make parole, she'll go on paying another thirteen years."

"So you really do understand how Margaret Hill felt about her mother."

She just stood there, watching him. Saying nothing.

"Well." He scratched his face where new stubble was starting to itch. "What now?"

"Now I go back and read files."

There were dark shadows under her eyes. "Or we could grab some dinner."

She studied him carefully. "Why?"

"Because my stomach's growling so loud I'm surprised you can't hear it."

Again her mouth quirked. "I can hear it, actually. I meant why did you follow me?"

"You were tired and you feel guilty because you haven't processed information in those files in one night that will probably take the both of us days to get through." She hadn't bought his explanation, so he gave the only answer that would satisfy them both. "For some reason I like you. I didn't want anything to happen to you. That's all."

She flinched, her eyes taking on a suspicious glint that rocked him as she took a giant step back from his window. She turned her head to look up at the prison building. When she looked back, her eyes were clear, her smile slightly mocking. "Then let's get something to eat. But not around here, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. This time you follow me."

Tuesday, November 28, 10:15 p.m.

Reed stepped out of his garage and waited as Mitchell's little Alfa turned into his driveway. He was a little surprised she'd stuck with him when it became clear they were headed to his house, but here she was, ratty jacket and all. He'd had partners over for dinner before after all. Foster, a bachelor with a hot plate, was a regular.

But Foster sure as hell didn't look like Mia Mitchell. Reed's heart thudded heavily in his chest as she got out of her car. From where he stood, he could see her every curve. You're crazy , he thought. This is a bad idea. B-A-D . But there had been something in her eyes, a soft vulnerability. He'd thought she had no softness in her yesterday morning. He could see now that he'd been very wrong.

She stopped three feet from him, blonde brows lifted. "Cafe du Solliday?"

"I don't know about you, but I can't stand the thought of another burger in a sack."

Her lips curved, amused. "You gonna cook for me?"

"That depends on your definition of cook. Come." He led her through the garage into the kitchen where Beth stood at the microwave as popcorn popped. "Hi, honey."

Beth turned only her head to glare at him. Rolling her eyes, she looked away.

Conscious of Mitchell behind him he took a step toward his daughter. "Beth?"

"What?"

"What's wrong now?"

Beth set her jaw. "Nothing."

"I think I'll go," Mitchell murmured and he held up his hand.

"No, it's okay. Beth, this is Detective Mitchell, my temporary partner. This is my daughter, Beth. My polite daughter, Beth."

Beth shook her head with a disgusted huff. "It's nice to meet you, Detective."

"It's nice to meet you, Beth. Look, Solliday, I can-"

His smile was strained. "You can sit. Please. Beth, if you won't tell me what's wrong in a reasonable way, then you can go to your room."

"What's wrong is that everybody continues to treat me like I'm four years old. All I wanted was to stay over Jenny's tonight. I even brought my toothbrush , for God's sake. But Lauren…" She gritted her teeth. "Lauren embarrassed me in front of everyone ."

"Who was everyone?"

"Never mind." The corn continued to pop, each sound like another punch of tension.

"Lauren followed my instructions. You know no sleepover's on school nights."

The microwave beeped and Beth grabbed the bag. "Fine." She slammed the microwave door and a minute later slammed her bedroom door. Reed turned to Mitchell with a wince.

"I swear I had a nice daughter once."

She smiled ruefully. "Aliens. Pods. Body snatchers. It's the only explanation."

With a tired chuckle, he took off his over coat and suit coat and laid them across a chair. "I'll give her a chance to cool off before we discuss which privileges that little tantrum cost her. Take off your coat, Mia. Stay awhile."

Coming to his house was a really bad idea. But as Mia watched Solliday move around his kitchen, it was damn hard to mind. He'd shed his coat and set his dirty shoes outside. They still bore the remnants of mud from that morning, although Mia was quite certain they'd be shiny enough to see her face in by eight o'clock tomorrow.

Meeting his daughter had been interesting. But Beth was fourteen and Mia supposed that said it all. What had been more revealing was his response. Patient, firm, and bewildered. Bobby would have backhanded her to the floor. Even Kelsey had never defied him in front of company. But Mia pushed Bobby from her mind and focused on the different, but equally unsettling thought of Reed Solliday.

He was tugging at his tie and Mia found the sight a lot more intimate than she would have liked. The play of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt as he pulled the tie free of his collar sent a flutter through her gut and a sharp zing straight down.

Reed Solliday was a very watchable man and in the quiet of his kitchen she could admit to herself that she was interested. Watch yourself , she told herself firmly. You don't do cops. But he's not a cop , her mind reasoned as she fought to keep from staring at the dark course hair that now peeked from his open collar. Fucking technicality. Get a grip . She dragged her eyes up to find him staring at her, eyes nearly black.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly, as if he read her thoughts.

What was wrong was that Reed Solliday looked way too good standing there with his tie off and that it had been a very long time since she'd had a man and that desire had suddenly, unwantedly come knocking. Pounding. Crashing at the damn door. But as none of those was an appropriate response, she shrugged. "I'm not sure why I'm here."