Kit Wilkinson - Protector's Honor

“Your Gram looks happy with Mr. Watson,” she noted.

Rory made a muffled sound and turned the truck into the restaurant parking.

Nick’s was a small, elegant bistro. She and Rory occupied a tiny table for two in the back of the dining room and ate some of the most delicious Italian food Tabitha had tasted in a long time.

“I’m eating like a truck driver,” she claimed. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was. It’s delicious.”

“It is. And I’m glad you’re eating. It’s good to see you relax. You didn’t have anything for lunch.”

“Neither did you,” she countered.

He leaned closer to her with a cockeyed grin. “You noticed? I’m flattered.”

“Really? Flattered by that? You should listen to your grandmother and get out more.”

Rory’s deep baritone laughter filled the small room. Those hypnotic eyes twinkled at her in the candlelight. His grin spread wide under that slightly crooked and freckled nose—his only imperfection, if she could even call it that.

She felt her throat constricting. So far, the dinner had been casual, friendly-like, without any flirtations. This change made her uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because the change wasn’t just from him—she felt it in herself, as well.

She looked away as she wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin. She’d be a big fat liar to tell herself she didn’t feel attracted to him. Over the past two years, she’d wondered if she could ever feel like this again. She should have been pleased. Instead, it was completely unnerving. “I like your grandmother,” she said. “She’s spunky.”

“You like my grandmother. Great.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “She didn’t wear you out with all her stories and gossip?”

“You forget. I’m a lawyer. I’m used to lots of talking.” Except for tonight, she thought. She looked down at her watch. “Wow. Look at the time. We should probably get back to the inn.”

“What about dessert?” He looked hopeful.

“No, thank you.”

Rory frowned and placed his napkin beside his plate. He leaned forward with those intense eyes boring into her. “Coffee?”

Tabitha shook her head.

“Are you okay? You look pale again.”

“I’m fine.” But was she? Why did it feel like the walls were closing in? Must have been the mixture of exhaustion, anxiety and emotion catching up with her again. The sooner she was home the better. Away from Hendersonville, that mountain and Rory Farrell.

As they stood, Rory’s phone pulsed at his waist. Tabitha tried to look away as he mumbled in low tones, but her eyes were drawn to him like magnets to steel. He glanced her way as he spoke, his smile fading, and she knew the call was about her. About the attack. The pool of dread began to rise around her again.

Rory snapped his cell shut. “That was Detective Hines on the phone. They found your car.”

The police had found her car. Tabitha wondered if it looked like her hotel room. The anxious thought made her body turn rigid. Rory reached for her arm. “I don’t need help. My ankle is better.” The words came out harsher than she’d meant them.

“Your ankle is better because you’ve been staying off it.” With a tug, he forced her to lean on him.

“Where did they find it?” she asked, as he helped her out of the restaurant and toward his truck.

“Abandoned near Interstate 40 not far from Asheville.”

“Well, this is good. Right? That they found it?”

Rory frowned and didn’t look at her as they walked toward the truck. “Maybe. It’s being towed to a lab. They’ll call you about it tomorrow.”

“But…” She paused in front of the passenger door. “Why did the police call you?”

“Well, for one, you don’t have a phone.” He opened the door for her. She took a step into the cab, but Rory held fast to her elbow, turning her to face him. She leaned back against the outside of the truck.

Rory released her arm and gave her a nervous, fleeting smile. “Tabitha, I don’t…You’re very tense again. I hope you’re not angry with me for making you come tonight.”

She smiled. “No. You would know if I was angry.”

“Yes. I bet I would.” His expression lightened. With a hand on the window of the cab, he leaned his weight toward her, lowering his head. “So…you’re okay?”

Tabitha swallowed hard. No, I’m not okay. You make me nervous. She shrugged and slid away toward the open cab.

“One more question,” he stated.

Tabitha glanced back. One look into his piercing eyes and she melted, her breath heavy in her chest. Yes, she was definitely attracted to him.

“I know we just met,” he continued. “But are you…” He paused to clear his throat. “Are you seeing anyone? Would you consider going out with me sometime?”

“I’m not great at math,” she said, climbing into the truck. “But I think that’s two questions.”

“Okay. You’re right.” He leaned against the door. “But maybe you’d be kind enough to answer one of them?”

Tabitha drew in a slow breath. His request was simple and fair. Most women would have been flattered by it. After all, he had no way of knowing her past and the complications it threw into his request. But she did. A date with him meant facing her buried fears. It meant having trust and being honest. And Tabitha didn’t know if she could do it. Not now. Not ever.

“My answer to one of the questions is no.”

Rory’s head titled. “No, you’re not dating anyone? Or no, you won’t go out with me?”

Tabitha turned to him with a grin. “I’m afraid that’s more questions, Agent Farrell.”

“So it is.” He gave a half laugh then closed the door, shaking his head as he walked to the driver’s side.

On the way back to the inn, he let her steer the conversation over a variety of impersonal topics. He couldn’t know how much she appreciated that.

Rory knew better than to press Tabitha about seeing him again. It was obvious she was exhausted and emotionally drained. Perhaps he’d only imagined the connection he’d felt with her. Had he become that clueless with women? Probably.

He parked in front of the inn and led Tabitha up the long staircase and into the lobby.

“Tabitha.” A tall and thin reddish-blonde jumped forward the second they stepped inside. The woman flung her arms around Tabitha, forcing Rory to step back.

Her roommate from Charlotte. Already arrived. The disappointment that Tabitha would be out of his life in less than five minutes hit him like a concrete block in the chest.

“Oh.” The woman made fast, nervous gestures as she spoke. “This must be Agent uh—”

“Rory Farrell.” He extended his hand, which she grasped with tremendous strength.

“Sasha Bristow.”

Bristow. Rory felt his smile return. The other hotel room had been for her roommate. Not a boyfriend. A little of the pressure lifted from his chest. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Bristow.”

“Nice of you to save Tabitha and keep her company until my shift ended.” Sasha grinned. “I would have been here for the race, if I hadn’t had to work.”

There was a particular lilt to her accent. Rory couldn’t quite place it. “You’re a nurse, right?” he asked.

Sasha nodded.

“Well, I don’t have any bags, so let’s go,” Tabitha said quickly.

“Right. I—uh. I need to…” Sasha eyed the interior.

“Ladies’ room is over there.” Tabitha pointed to the doors next to the boutique. Sasha spun away.

“She has an interesting accent,” Rory said.

“Irish, but it’s faded since we met in college.”

“Ah.”

Silence fell between them. But Rory held her gaze, searching for some sign from her. Some indication that he hadn’t imagined what he’d felt earlier. Tabitha gave him nothing but a tired expression.