He leaned forward, invading her personal bubble. “I could show you exactly how special I am,” he whispered.
Whoa! That was definitely not professional. What was he trying to do now? Seduce her into talking, giving him what he wanted, obviously. She just needed to remember that’s all this was about — her testimony.
She finally broke the long silence that followed. “Um…it’s getting pretty hot out here. I was just finishing up,” she said. Better just to let him win their verbal battle.
“Great. I’m a bit warm myself.” He stood up and invited himself to join her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to tell him to go away.
“I really have a lot to do…”
“How about we start this conversation again?” he asked with a killer smile. “I’m in town working, and thought I’d stop by. It’s been a long drive, and my throat is parched.”
Misty stood there for a moment, and then, unbidden, her lips twitched at his blatant hint. This man knew how to be charming, knew how to get his way. She’d bet he killed it on the stand when he testified as an expert witness.
“I made a fresh pot of iced tea a little while ago,” she told him, the idea of sitting with a cool drink with this man was too dang appealing for her liking.
“Perfect. I just so happen to love tea.” He held out his arm to escort her inside.
Misty looked at the arm for a moment, then looked down, pretending she hadn’t noticed his gesture. She bent down and gathered her gardening tools, placed them in the basket she was using, and began walking toward her front door.
She could swear she heard him chuckle, but when she turned her head, his mouth was closed, though there was a smile on his lips. Maybe she was just getting paranoid at this point.
When his hand brushed her back as they reached the front door, a chill slithered down her body, a tingling chasing that sensation. One small touch and she was heated and cooled all at once. Never before could she remember reacting this way to a guy — not her first lover, and certainly not Jesse.
Drawing away from him, she slipped inside the door while giving herself a stern lecture. You will not feel a response to this man. He is trying to manipulate you into doing what he wants. This is all pointless. He will disappear in a few minutes, and then you probably won’t ever see him again, so pull yourself together.
The mental lecture seemed to help…a little. The sooner she gave Bryson a drink and then ushered him back out her front door, the better for her racing heart and her suddenly reawakened libido.
Now get busy. Misty went straight to the cupboard and pulled out a couple of glasses, then filled them with ice and sweetened iced tea. Next, she grabbed a box of cookies and then moved over to the table.
It wasn’t as if she’d had a lot of visitors — none, actually other than Agent Benson, when he was checking in with her. She hadn’t been very social with that man at all. OK, there was also the guy with the dog, but he didn’t come inside.
“Great iced tea,” Bryson said.
“Thanks. I just followed the directions on the box.”
His smile was distracting her. Even though she knew she was saying the wrong things, knew she should be less tense, he seemed more fascinated by her than appalled. He was either one hell of an actor or he just didn’t get out much.
In any case, they weren’t exactly a match made in heaven. Not that she should be thinking of them as a match or a pair, or anything at all that involved two people. They were simply strangers. It was very black and white.
“I have to say, I really like how you’ve done up the place. I’ve seen a lot of temp homes in my years on the team, and people usually don’t do much with them. They prefer to get out as soon as possible. You’ve made this place really homey.”
Misty tried to look around the small space through his eyes. It wasn’t much, a small three-bedroom, two-bathroom home, but still much too large for just her, much larger than she was used to. The walls were sparsely decorated, and the furnishings minimal. Against all odds, though, she’d grown quite attached.
After she finally started to leave the house during daylight hours, she’d managed to find a craft store and had picked up a few painting supplies, so the walls now had a couple of amateur pictures with large splashes of color on them, and a cross-stitch project was sitting on the coffee table.
She’d never done one before, but she’d been excited to try something new. It wasn’t going well, but depending on how long she was living there, she might just be able to master the craft eventually.
“I like it here. It’s a great town, not far from the city, but the neighborhood is friendly. Mr. Whistler down the street usually stops and chats with me for a few minutes while he’s walking his little dog. I swear that thing is a terror, though. I tried to pet him once, and he nearly took a finger off.”
He laughed. “Don’t tell me that you’re afraid of a little tiny dog!”
“Just because they’re little doesn’t mean their teeth aren’t sharp. They could latch on to a vein and bleed you dry.”
Bryson gazed at her for a moment as if trying to determine whether she was serious or not. When she realized how ridiculous she sounded, she smiled just a bit. Bryson had no idea that when she’d been ten, a medium-sized dog had attacked her, leaving a scar on the back of her leg. The thing had really latched on.
That had been her first experience with a tetanus shot. The darned needle had been so large that she was sure the people who had invented the dosage had secretly been fiendish villains, out to torture young people stupid enough to need the dang injection.
“I think we’ve all had frightening experiences with dogs. When I was about eight, I was riding my bike in our neighborhood. It was dusk, and I knew that if I didn’t get home in less than five minutes, my mom was going to whip me, so I was hauling down a hill and I wiped out. I’m lying there, trying real hard not to cry while blood was gushing from my elbow, and right then this mean-assed boxer shows up. I was an idiot and started running. He nipped me right in the behind. I think he was just herding me, though, ’cause the skin didn’t break. I just had one giant-sized bruise, making it hard to sit for the next week or so.”
She didn’t know how he could laugh about such a frightening experience, but she did know she probably would have done the same and run like crazy. Of course, in her case, with her luck, the dang dog would have jumped her, pinned her down, and eaten her for dinner.