be mad as all hell that she’d omitted her identity, but he couldn’t muster it around the relief of seeing her again.
She was busy digging in a grocery bag and hadn’t looked up yet, so he used the time to straighten up, pull himself together. Glue his gaze above her neck where it belonged, especially with her father standing at his shoulder. Jesus.
“I swear, I left right on time, but I—” Kenna looked up and the smile froze on her face. So she hadn’t known either. Well, at least he wasn’t the only one being caught off guard. With an obvious effort, she turned her attention to Sutton. “I, uh…s-stopped to get that beef jerky you’re always going on about. The one—”
“Thank you. Although, Tina picked it up for me this morning.” Sutton patted his daughter on the shoulder, much like he’d done to Beck. “I’d rather you’d been on time.”
“Ah, you know me. Unfashionably late.” She dropped the grocery bag down to her side, throwing a glance at Beck. “Just ask Major Collier. If I’d been any later to pick him up yesterday, he would’ve started walking.” She widened her eyes slightly. “Right, Major?”
Beck hid his surprise that she’d acknowledged their acquaintance in a sip of whiskey. “I was grateful to have a ride at all on short notice. Thanks again, ma’am.”
“That’s right. I forgot you two already know each other,” Sutton said, just as Tina joined them in the living room to take Beck’s now-empty glass and sail back toward the kitchen. Beck noticed she’d only offered a passing nod in Kenna’s direction and that Kenna didn’t appear surprised by the less-than-welcoming gesture. “I’ll go make sure Tina has dinner in order,” Sutton continued. “Make yourself comfortable, Major. Kenna.”
The air left the room as soon as they were alone. She was both too far away and too close for his peace of mind. Questions hovered on the tip of his tongue. Questions that she anticipated, based on her expectant—slightly defiant—expression. But the bag of rejected jerky she’d brought looked so sad, dangling against her boot. And he didn’t like the welcome she’d received. Not at all. Knew it had to account for the steel she’d put in her spine, the adorable way she lifted her chin. So he didn’t ask why she’d kept her identity from him. Yes, because he didn’t want to be predictable, but more so because he wanted to distract her from the tense undercurrents he’d felt running through the room. He needed her to feel welcome, even if it wasn’t his place or his home.
“I’m not much of a fan of dinner parties.” He cleared his throat into the silence. “You ever hear of murder mystery dinner theater?” She shook her head slowly, as if trying to discern his angle. “There’s a place down in Atlanta—Agatha’s, I think it’s called. From the time my sister and I entered middle school, my mother used to drag us there for our birthdays. These actors would put on a big whodunit on stage while everyone ate ribs.”
A spark lit her eyes. “So bad it was good?”
“Exactly.” Oh God, she’s so damn pretty and I’m stuck talking about dinner theater . “We started off hating it every time, but then my mother, she’d start laughing. She’d laugh so loud, the actors would forget their lines. Soon none of us could keep a straight face.” He shrugged. “I think that’s why I can’t enjoy dinner parties anymore. They pale in comparison.”
“I hate be the bearer of bad news, True Blue, but this one is going to keep the disappointment streak alive.”
“Now, see, you missed the point of the story.” Beck sidestepped an ottoman and risked a move in her direction. “I was going to tell you that this dinner party already beat the others. Just from having you walk in.”
The plastic bag of beef jerky hit the floor, spilling its contents. On reflex, Beck stooped down to pick it up, which was a grave mistake if he’d ever made one because it put him
Elmore - Carl Webster 03 Leonard