This Good Man. Janice Kay Johnson

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СКАЧАТЬ was reaching for the light switch when he once again filled the doorway.

      “Anna.”

      “Captain Sawyer.”

      “Surely we’re to the first-name stage.”

      She pretended to look surprised. “Are we?”

      His jaw tightened.

      “Did you need something?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant. “You know that I’m more involved in supervising foster homes than in working directly with the kids. But if you have a question, I might be able to refer you to someone who can help—”

      “I don’t have a question.” His irritation was obvious.

      “Then?”

      His jaw muscles spasmed again. “Never mind. Have a good evening, Ms. Grant.”

      He was shrugging on the parka and walking toward the exit when she hurriedly followed him out into the lobby. She’d been a bitch, and all because he’d made it obvious he wasn’t interested in her. Politely.

      “Captain... Reid,” she said more softly.

      For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to stop. He was almost to the exterior doors when he hesitated and turned. “Anna.”

      Now she felt awkward. “You must have had something you wanted to talk to me about.”

      He looked at her for a long moment, his face unreadable, as it so often was. “Call it an impulse,” he said finally.

      “I’m really not in any hurry.” She didn’t move closer to him, but kept her voice down for reasons she didn’t understand. The moment seemed...significant. The two of them were very alone, though there was activity behind her in the brightly lit library proper, while headlights were coming on out in the parking lot. They were bound to be interrupted any minute; with the library closing, patrons would be streaming out, or someone would emerge from one of the restrooms. She suddenly, desperately, wanted to know why he’d hung around to talk to her.

      “I have a problem with a teenager,” he said slowly. “I thought you might be an expert available for consultation.”

      Her disappointment was acute. So he’d wanted her only in her professional capacity. Of course. Trying for brisk, she said, “I don’t know that I’d call myself an expert on teenagers in particular, but I’m happy to help if I can.” She did owe him one. She shifted the weight of the heavy bag slung over her shoulder and started toward him and the exit. “You’re welcome to call me, or—”

      “It’s my brother.” Lines had deepened on his forehead. He looked disconcerted, as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

      “A teenager?” she blurted in surprise.

      That very speaking eyebrow of his twitched. “Think I’m too old to have a brother that young?”

      “Well, um, yes?”

      He grimaced. “You’re right. I am. I should have said half brother. Who I didn’t know existed until a few months ago.”

      “That sounds like a story.” He wasn’t moving, so she came to a stop.

      “It is.” He shook his head. “You probably just want to get home.”

      “Actually, now you have me interested,” she admitted. She didn’t know what had happened the last time they had seen each other. She would have sworn he’d been checking out her body, if smoothly. He wouldn’t have suggested coffee if he hadn’t been attracted to her, would he? It was more as if she’d said something wrong. The annoying part was having no idea what that could have been. It might be that he’d happened to be at the library tonight, saw that she was speaking and thought, Aha! There’s someone I can talk to. He did say it was an impulse. But...she didn’t believe that. He hadn’t been carrying any books earlier, and he didn’t have one in his hands now, either. She had a feeling he had come looking for her.

      “I suppose you’ve had dinner.” He sounded almost tentative.

      “Actually, no. But you don’t need to feed me.”

      “I wouldn’t mind having something to eat myself. How about Chandler’s Brewpub?”

      “They often have live music,” she pointed out. “Not so great if you want to talk.” She hesitated. “Will you be shocked if I confess I was planning to go to A&W? I really wanted a root-beer float.”

      He flashed a grin that made her knees wobble. “A root-beer float and French fries sound damn good to me.” He pushed open the door, letting in a blast of cold air, and waited for her to go through.

      She gave an involuntary shiver. “You know where it is?”

      “I do.”

      “My car’s that way.” She gestured vaguely. “See you there.”

      He raised a hand and strode away.

      * * *

      ANNA INSISTED ON paying for her own meal, a clear message. She carried her tray toward a far booth even though the place was empty but for one other couple, leaving him to place his own order and follow a minute later.

      He slid onto the hard plastic bench across from her. “Think we’ll hear our numbers from here?”

      “I thought you might not want to be overheard,” she said coolly.

      “You’re right.”

      He still didn’t know what he was doing here. Not an unusual state for him these days. Confusion seemed to be his new usual. Still—he’d made the decision to stay away from Anna, and yet here he was, three whole days later, having sought her out.

      Weirdly, when he had driven away from the shelter this afternoon, he’d immediately thought of her. By serendipity, he’d spotted a notice in the morning paper for her talk at the library, so he guessed that was why she’d been at the back of his mind. He could talk to her about Caleb’s issues, he’d thought, without saying anything about his relationship to the boy. Then what was the first thing out of his mouth? He’s my brother.

      “There’s mine,” she said abruptly, sliding out of the booth.

      Her number. He’d been so busy brooding, he hadn’t even heard.

      She was still up there when his was called, but when he turned, Anna waved him back to his seat. She returned with his food, as well as her own.

      “Damn, that smells good,” he said, hungrily reaching for his French fries. “This was a good idea.”

      “Yes, it was.” She took a slurp from her root-beer float then unwrapped her cheeseburger.

      “How’d your talk go?” he asked between bites, aiming to put off a conversation he still wasn’t sure he wanted to have.

      “Hmm? Oh, good. We’re always short of homes, which means I put in a lot of time recruiting new foster parents.”

      “Is СКАЧАТЬ