Brenda Harlen - McIver's Mission

The appearance of the waiter brought his attention back to the present. Arden still had her nose buried in the menu, although he could tell by the distant look in her deep brown eyes that her thoughts were elsewhere. He reached across the table to pluck the menu out of her hand and return it to the waiter.

“Why don’t we start with the deluxe beef nachos, followed by chicken fajitas?” he suggested.

“That’s fine,” she agreed.

The waiter scribbled down the order.

“And a couple of Corona,” Shaun added.

The waiter returned almost immediately with two bottles topped with wedges of lime. Shaun picked up his beer and tapped it against hers.

“To better tomorrows,” he said.

She forced a smile, but the sadness continued to lurk in her eyes. “I don’t think I thanked you.”

“I got the impression you would’ve preferred to be left alone.”

“I would have,” she admitted. “I don’t like to fall apart. I like it even less when there are witnesses.”

“There’s no shame in needing someone to lean on every once in a while.”

She tipped the bottle to her lips and sipped. “When was the last time you soaked someone’s shirt with your tears?”

He sat back, considering. “I can’t remember.”

“Yeah,” she said dryly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Sometimes it’s harder to let go than it is to hold it in,” he told her, knowing that it was true for Arden.

What had happened to her that she felt compelled to bury her feelings so deep? Why was she always so determined to be strong and independent? And why was he so affected by the hint of vulnerability in the depths of those beautiful eyes?

He reached across the table and covered her hand with his own. She jolted, and the furrow on her brow deepened. He found he enjoyed seeing the cool and controlled Arden Doherty flustered. And he found it quite interesting that his touch—even something as casual as his hand on hers—seemed to fluster her.

She tugged her hand away, but not before he noticed the way her pulse had skipped, then raced. It made him wonder how she might react if he ever really touched her. And it forced him to admit that he wanted to really touch her.

He shook off the thought, took a mental step in retreat. Offering to share a meal with a woman wasn’t analogous to feeling an attraction. He did not want to touch Arden. He wasn’t looking for any kind of involvement.

And if being here with her had him contemplating something more than dinner, it was just that he’d obviously been too long without a woman in his life. Besides, contemplating was steps away from acting, and he had no intention of making any kind of move on Arden Doherty.

Still, he was relieved when the waiter returned with a heaping platter of nachos.

Arden’s stomach grumbled; Shaun grinned.

“I missed lunch today,” she admitted, as she dipped a nacho chip laden with spicy beef, cheese, and jalapeños into the dish of sour cream. “I was tied up in court all morning and then…I had…somewhere else I had to go.”

Her evasive comment intrigued him. “Somewhere else” was obviously where she’d been before he’d found her in the park. It shouldn’t matter to him; he shouldn’t care where she’d been or what had upset her.

He decided to redirect the conversation. “I can’t believe we’ve never had dinner together before.”

“We’ve had dinner together plenty of times.”

“With Nikki and Colin,” he agreed. “Never just the two of us.”

“Why would we?”

He shrugged. “We’re colleagues, of sorts. We’re family, almost. It just seems strange that we’ve never shared a meal.”

“We wouldn’t be doing so now if you hadn’t blackmailed me,” Arden reminded him.

He grinned. “I must admit, it’s a novel approach for me with a woman.”

Her lips twitched in a reluctant smile, and Shaun’s breath caught. He’d always known she was beautiful. Almost too beautiful. It was an observation, he assured himself, not an attraction. Yet, he couldn’t discount the immediate physical response of his body when those sensual lips curved, parted slightly. He wanted to touch his mouth to hers, just once, to know if she tasted as sweet as the promise of those lips.

“There’s no need to waste your charm on me,” Arden said.

“Why do you think it would be wasted?”

“We both know I’m only here with you because you thought I’d fall apart again if you left me alone.”

“I was concerned about you. I am concerned,” he admitted.

“Don’t be.”

It was her tone as much as the words that informed him the ice princess was back. Or so she wanted him to believe. But why? What had happened to make her so distrustful, so wary?

He shook off the thought. Whatever it was, it was her problem. She’d said as much herself. He didn’t need to worry about Arden Doherty, and he didn’t need any complications in his own life right now.

As she shared dinner and conversation with Shaun, Arden found herself beginning to relax. She’d wanted to be annoyed with him for having forced the situation. She didn’t like being coerced into anything. But she was also grateful. She had planned to go back to work, but she knew that by six o’clock the office would be empty. There would be no one with whom to share meaningless conversation, nothing to distract her from thinking about Denise and Brian, wondering if there was something more she could have done, something that might have changed the way things had turned out.

She’d thought she wanted to be alone, but what she really wanted—what she needed—was a diversion.

Shaun McIver was one hell of a diversion.

He was certainly a pleasure to look at: more than six feet of well-honed male with sun-kissed golden highlights in his dark blond hair. His face was angular, with slashing cheekbones and a slight dimple in his square chin. But it was his eyes that got to her. They were a dark mossy green with amber flecks that could take her breath away if she let them.

Which she didn’t. He might be a beautiful specimen of masculinity, but she wasn’t interested. Not in Shaun McIver, not in any other man. She’d learned a long time ago that opening herself up to love meant opening herself up to heartache. Her mother, her stepfather, her almost-fiancé—everyone who’d ever claimed to love her had hurt her. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Still, she had no moral objection to sharing a meal with Shaun, especially when the food was Mexican and she was starving.

By the time they left the restaurant after dinner, the temperature outside had dropped several degrees. Arden shivered, and Shaun slipped an arm over her shoulders. She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the chill in the air.

Arden frowned. She didn’t understand her reaction to him. Surely she didn’t have any romantic feelings for Shaun—that was too ridiculous to consider. Maybe it had just been too long since she’d been with a man. Too long since she’d even wanted to be. In the past several years, she hadn’t met anyone who understood the importance of her career. Even the lawyers she’d dated thought her commitment bordered on obsession. And there were times, even she had to admit, when it did. When it had to. Because there were times when she was the last hope for the abused women and children who came to her for help.

Shaun turned automatically in the direction of Arden’s apartment building. She’d forgotten that he knew where she lived, that he’d been drafted by Nikki to help Arden move several months earlier.

“You don’t have to walk me home,” she protested.

“What would Nikki say if I didn’t see you safely to your door?”

Arden shrugged but didn’t bother to respond as they headed down the street. They walked in companionable silence, listening to the muted sounds of the evening. Fairweather was hardly a booming metropolis at the best of times, and by eight o’clock on a Friday evening, this part of the downtown core was pretty much asleep. A few streets over, people would be filtering in to the bars and dance clubs, but here everything was quiet. Her apartment, just a few blocks ahead, would be quieter still.