One Night

Chapter 3, One Night

Chapter 3

He was considering having a second Guinness. He wasn't in the mood for talking tonight, and he said a quick goodnight to Febriski, the desk sergeant, as he leaned against the light cedar block of the bar.

"Another, Walker?"

He liked Jean, the short blonde who was part owner of this trendy club. The food was good, the drinks were cold, and it was close to the precinct. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

She pulled the bottle from the fridge, cracked the cap, and set it on the counter. She went to slide him a clean glass, but he waved her off.

"Business looks good," he said, taking in the crowd, all suits. This location attracted a certain clientele.

She gave him a sly smile. "Business has been phenomenal. Packed every night. Reservations are currently a three-week waitlist, and we had the local paper here doing a write up in the food section. All that great publicity helps." She tapped the counter and gestured to one of the wait staff, who took over behind the bar.

"Your brother's the chef, right?" Walker said. He still couldn't believe the brother-sister team had paired up and opened this successful restaurant. 525 was the talk of the town.

"Vince is the genius behind all those dishes on the menu. He always could cook back when we were kids. Took over from Mom, who couldn't cook if her life depended on it. I think then it was more about survival."

He swallowed the dark brew. "How old is he again?"

"Twenty-three."

"You're twins, right?" he asked. Jean was a pistol, a self-starter, and he wanted to get to know her better. If she was anything in bed like she was running this establishment, hell, she'd be a firecracker.

"You know we are, old man."

"Ouch." He touched his heart with the flat of his palm. "I have, what, five years on you?"

"Are you hitting on me again?" she said. For such a young thing, she was far from shy. That could turn an otherwise boring night into a good time he was sure he'd remember fondly. He wondered whether she was one of those take-charge types, a wildfire who'd have him begging, sweating, and doing his damnedest to keep up. God, he hoped so.

"And if I am, are you going to turn me down again, or are you going to finally give in to what we both know you really want?"

She jabbed her finger into his arm. His dress shirt was rolled up to his sleeves, his .45 clipped to his belt. "What if I told you I was seeing someone?" she said.

"Are you?" he said. Had she really been seeing someone else all these times he'd been hitting on her, almost every night for the past month? "Can't be that serious, as I know you're considering letting me have my way with you, and I'm breaking you down. I can see it every day. I'm making headway, and one night you're going to walk out of here with me, because you and I both know it'll be a night you'll never forget."

Her mischievous smile was bright and so catlike. He'd give anything to know what was going on in her mind. Then she tilted her head, really studying him. "So what exactly are you looking for, Walker? Because I'm not too interested in dating a cop."

"Who said anything about dating?" He rested his arms on the bar, and she licked her lower lip. The sizzle between them in that moment had him hardening. He wanted to taste her, to bite her lip, to put his mouth on the soft pink spot that still glistened from where she'd licked it. Then he pictured her mouth on him, those lips around him.

"No." She slapped the counter and pushed away. "But thanks for the offer."

"Tease," he said as he reached for his beer and drank down the last of it, for a moment feeling absolutely miserable.

She laughed, wagging her finger at him before walking away. "Same time tomorrow night," she called.

He set his empty on the counter and tossed down some bills. "Not tomorrow, I have the night shift. Take care, Jean. Let me know if anyone hassles you."

She jutted her chin toward him, and her expression softened. "Stay safe out there, Walker."

Good God, he really did want to get to know her better. She interested the hell out of him. He liked her and the flirtatious banter they'd had going on now for months. She was smart, sexy, had a great sense of humor, and she could hold her own with her crowd of diners. Whoever the lucky dog was who'd finally snag her, well, Walker was envious.

He shrugged on his navy sports coat and stopped in the crowded waiting area, glancing into the dining room. He didn't know why he noticed her, the babe in those killer heels and red dress sitting with the dude with the slick hair and phony smile. What was it with women, always going for the flash, charm, and good looks? Then he heard something that had him stepping further inside. Through the window, he could see a car speeding up onto the sidewalk between two parked cars, heading right for the chick in the red dress. Everything went into slow motion, and she looked up just as the car crashed through the front glass of Portland's hottest restaurant.

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