The District

“Are you ready for dinner yet?”

His gaze flicked to the towel slipping from his waist. “Give me a few more minutes.”

“I’m starving.”

“Five minutes.”

He left the shirts on the bed, grabbed a clean pair of underwear and stepped into his jeans. A sharp knock on the door halted his progress back to the bathroom.

“Ready yet?”

Blowing out a breath, he crossed to the connecting door, unlocked it and yanked it open. “Impatient, aren’t you?”

She made some reply that didn’t register with his brain—because all reasoning had fled the scene, crowded out by his visceral emotions.

Christina had shed the pantsuit and replaced it with a pair of dark skinny jeans topped with a wide-necked red sweater that slid off one shoulder, revealing a black lacy tank top. Her loose, dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, and she tossed it back as she sized him up with narrowed eyes.

“You’re not even dressed.”

He dipped his chin to his bare chest. “Almost there. You had the advantage of being here a few days. I went straight to the P.D. from the airport.”

“Excuses, excuses, Brody. Put some clothes on, will ya?”

He grunted and grabbed the shirt he’d dropped onto the bed. Had they slipped back into that easy camaraderie after just one afternoon spent together? That was part of Christina’s charm. She came off like one of the guys, but lurking beneath the sarcastic banter was a potent sensuality that could lure you in and wrap you up before you even knew what hit you.

Now that he knew all her tricks, he could resist her. He stuffed his arms in the sleeves of his shirt and his nostrils flared. Her exotic perfume wafted across the room and slid into his shirt with him.

“Did you bring the case files with you?” As he buttoned up the shirt in front of the mirror, his eyes strayed to her empty hands.

She arched an eyebrow. “I’m not bringing those to dinner. We know the basics. I have a notepad and pen in my purse just in case we have some amazing breakthrough.”

He wouldn’t bring case files to a normal working dinner either but this was no normal working dinner and he wanted the security of a distraction—a distraction from those dark, liquid eyes that shimmered with a hypnotic glow in candlelight.

“Give me one minute to make some sense of my hair.” He retreated to the safety of the bathroom, but she followed him.

“Really? Eric Brody uses hair product now?” She curved against the doorjamb like a long, lean cat.

He rubbed the gel between his hands. “It’s that or get a haircut.”

“Don’t do that. I like your hair longer.” She tilted her head. “How do the big boys feel about the long hair?”

“They haven’t said one way or the other, but then I don’t see much of them.” He rinsed his hands off in the sink and grabbed a towel.

“I’m sure they’re just thrilled to get you back, long hair and all.”

He stuffed the hand towel over the rack. “There are a couple of restaurants within walking distance to the hotel, but since we’re going to hit the bookstore after dinner we might as well drive.”

“There’s a restaurant I’ve been wanting to try for a while. It’s in the Haight-Ashbury district and should be pretty close to the bookstore, too.”

“Sounds good.” Anything sounded good about now—just to get out of this confined hotel room with Christina looking and smelling like sex on wheels.

Once in the parking garage, he stopped at the bumper of the little rental. “Do you want me to drive?”

“That’s okay. The car’s in my name.” She clicked the remote. “We don’t want to break any laws, especially with your brother, the SFPD detective, out on vacation.”

He had no choice but to be a passenger in her car while she sat in the driver’s seat. But he didn’t have to be a passenger on this journey. He didn’t have to be swept along a current of old feelings and desires. He’d been willing to give this woman everything, and she’d betrayed him...for a good story.

She swung the car into the line of traffic and sped up to avoid the cable car trundling to their right.

“It’s a little tricky driving these streets.”

“You’re a native—you should be used to it by now.”

“I didn’t drive much when I lived here—walking and public transportation have always been the best ways to get around.” She hunched over the steering wheel and peered at the road in front of her. “Do you think you’ll ever move back to the city?”

“You know I’m in D.C. now? I like it but if opportunity knocked, I could make my home here again.” He just might have to if he wanted to slay his demons.

“Do you plan to see your brothers while you’re here?”

“As you already know, Sean’s on an extended vacation, and I don’t think Judd’s in town either. I may take a trip up the coast to see Ryan.”

“Yeah, Sean had an interesting case a few months ago.”

“And Lopez was trying to get that story, too.”

Christina bit her lower lip.

The silence in the car lasted just a few awkward minutes.

With her hand balanced on the top of the steering wheel, she pointed out the window. “I think we can park on this street for the restaurant and the bookshop.”

She did an admirable parallel parking job, and he hopped out of the car. The confines of the car ended up being a lot worse than the hotel. Dinner had to be better.

He opened the restaurant door for her and she brushed past him. Was she trying to drive him crazy?

The Friday night crowd was crammed into every table in the room and perched on every stool at the large circular bar in the middle of the restaurant.

“Ugh, I didn’t even think about making a reservation.”

Eric hunched toward the hostess stand. “How long is the wait?”

She ran the eraser end of her pencil down the columns of a book. “Just two?”

“Yes, and we promise we won’t stay long.”

“We just had a cancellation, so I can squeeze you in.”

“Perfect.” Eric slipped her a twenty as she turned to lead them to a table.