Chapter Six #2
He looked away, then back at her. “We had a search and rescue call a week ago—a hiker with a sprained ankle in the canyon that runs behind your house.”
She frowned. “I didn’t know there were any hiking trails down there.”
“There aren’t. This person says she went down there to look for petroglyphs.” His eyes met hers. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you this or not, but it was Debra Percy.”
“Oh.” She sat back, trying to let this sink in. “But she was down in the canyon, right? A long way from my house.”
“Yes, but she had a drone. She said it crashed and she hurt her ankle while retrieving it.”
“What did she say she was doing with the drone?” Roxanne asked.
“She said she was looking for petroglyphs.” He leaned forward. “But there aren’t any petroglyphs in the canyon.”
“So you think she wasn’t actually looking for petroglyphs? Maybe she didn’t know there weren’t any really there.”
“Or maybe she was using the drone to spy on you.”
The idea of anyone spying on her was unsettling.
“But why would Debra want to spy on me? I mean, she’s a little too intense for me, but she’s looking for information about her sister.
She’s decided I’m the person who can give her that information and doesn’t want to accept that I don’t know anything.
But a drone isn’t going to help her get the information she’s looking for. ”
“I don’t know. It just struck me as odd.” He lifted his hands as if to type, then put them back in his lap. “She asked me if I had talked to you lately. And then she asked me out.”
She what? the voice in Roxanne’s head screeched. That this thought had occurred annoyed her. She hardly knew Dalton. So what she actually said was, “So, did you make a date?” Then held her breath, waiting for an answer.
“No.” He held her gaze. “She doesn’t interest me.”
And Roxanne did. That message was clear in his eyes. She interested him, even though he knew more about her past.
She looked away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny, yet feeling his gaze still on her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “About Alice. If you wanted to find her now, I could do some digging online. I’m pretty good at that kind of thing. I helped Carter’s fiancée find out about a man who was harassing her.”
“Do you mean you can hack into files?”
“Well, yeah. But I don’t do it to be malicious. Only to help people.”
“Thanks, but I don’t really want to find Alice,” she said. “She’s a part of my life I don’t care to revisit.”
“Fair enough.”
She tensed, waiting for the questions she was sure would come—the questions others had asked, once they learned her story. Questions like “what did he do to you?” and “how did he capture you?”
“Take a look at this and see if you can spot where I’m going wrong.
” His words directed her attention to his computer screen once more.
“I should be able to link the data in any part of the program with the calendar, but it’s not working on every page,” he continued.
“I know I’m missing something, but what? ”
She scooted her chair closer and leaned toward the screen to scrutinize the lines of code showing there.
But even as she tried to focus on the code, she was aware of his thigh next to hers and the warmth of his skin so close to her.
She inhaled a steadying breath and caught the scent of his soap or shampoo and the clean cotton of his clothing.
Normally, being too close to people—especially people she didn’t know well—was uncomfortable for her.
But she was drawn to Dalton. There was physical attraction, but also the comfort of being accepted just as she was.
There was no burden of expectations with him.
The idea had a heady novelty that kept her off-balance.
She forced herself to read the code and translate it into the functions it represented. She didn’t trust herself to read people accurately, but she knew programming. The correct code produced the desired results, every time. “Tell me what this section of the program is doing,” she said.
“Sure.” He clicked from the code to the actual page. “This is where we log in details of the accident. There’s a spot here to put the date, and that’s supposed to automatically make it possible to print a report or pull up types of calls sorted by date.”
“Huh.” She reached past him to switch back to the string of code, then straightened. “I see your problem. You left something out.” She began typing in the correct string of code, fingers lightning-fast on the keys.
“How did I miss that?” he asked.
“You know it’s supposed to be there, so your mind fills in the blank and makes you think it is there,” she said. “That’s my theory, anyway.” She sat back. “Is that the only place you’re having a problem?”
“There are two others,” he said. “I bet it’s the same problem.”
He navigated to the other trouble areas. One had the same problem, which he quickly corrected. The second page had a different string of corrupt code, but she spotted it and together they rewrote the correct instructions.
“Thanks,” he said when the work was done.
“You’d have figured out the mistake on your own eventually,” she said.
“Maybe, but you helped me solve the problem a lot faster.” He turned toward her and she couldn’t look away.
He had such beautiful eyes—green flecked with gold, fringed with thick, dark lashes, magnified by his glasses.
But the best thing about his eyes was the way he looked at her, as if she was something amazing.
Heat rose to her cheeks at the thought, and her gaze shifted to his lips.
How would he react if she leaned forward and kissed him?
She had never spontaneously kissed a guy before but right now, with this man, that was exactly what she wanted.
Would he think she was coming on too strong?
Would things get out of hand too quickly?
Was she overanalyzing this?
Yes. Just kiss him already.
She closed her eyes and leaned closer. Here goes nothing . . .
The jangle of a phone that sounded like it was coming from the narrow space between them sent her reeling back, gasping, eyes wide-open. Dalton swore fluently and groped for the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. He swore again, then looked at her. “Sorry about that. It’s my mom.”
“That’s okay.” She slid her chair a little farther back. “Go ahead and answer.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the insistent chiming of the phone.
“If I don’t, she’ll just keep calling.” He swiped at the screen. “Hi, Mom, I’m kind of busy right now.”
“Too busy to eat?” The voice of the woman on the other end of the phone sounded clearly in the small room. Even though Roxanne pretended to be focused on the computer screen once more, she couldn’t help overhearing. “I’m calling to invite you to dinner.”
“I’ll just grab something here,” Dalton said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m making your favorite—lasagna. And your brothers and sister are coming. You can bring whoever owns that white car that’s been parked at your place all afternoon.”
Roxanne let out a startled laugh.
Sorry, Dalton mouthed.
“I’ll wait while you ask her to dinner. Or him. No judging.”
Roxanne did laugh then. She couldn’t help it. Dalton’s face was red. “Sorry,” he said again, out loud this time.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I’d love to have dinner with your family.”
“I’ll expect you both in half an hour,” his mother said and ended the call.
Dalton laid the phone on the desk. “You don’t have to go,” he said. “I’ll make some excuse to Mom.”
“You don’t want me to go?” The idea disappointed her.
“No! I mean, I’d love to spend more time with you. But my whole family—it can be a lot.”
“I’ve already met Aaron and Bethany and Carter. Is there anyone else?”
“Just my parents. And Aaron’s and Carter’s fiancées and Bethany’s fiancé.”
“Is your mom a good cook?”
“She’s a great cook.”
“Lasagna is my favorite, too,” she said.
He closed the program on his computer, then stood. “Are you ready to go?”
She nodded. Nothing intense about meeting his family, right? Butterflies took off in her stomach and she fought the urge to flee. Back to her solitary home. Away from people who might misunderstand or judge her.
But that wasn’t happening here, she reminded herself. Dalton didn’t do those things and even if his family did, she could face them, knowing he had her back.