Читать книгу The Lawman's Secret Vow - Tara Randel - Страница 11
ОглавлениеA STRONG HAND clasped Eloise Archer’s upper arm, yanking her toward a deserted hallway in the Palm Cove, Florida, police department. She glanced at the hand and then looked up at the serious dark blue eyes of fellow detective Dante Matthews.
“Chambers is on the warpath. Pretend we’re having a work-related conversation.”
She clutched the file folders in her arms tighter to her chest, ignoring the shimmers of attraction that came with Dante’s touch. It was bad enough she worked with the handsome man, was it too much to ask that she not...notice him so much? They had a professional relationship, end of story. But Dante, with lush dark hair, recently cut short after his last undercover operation, stood tall and lean, filling out his button-down shirt and jeans—very much a dream man.
Or hers, anyway.
She spied over her shoulder to see Lieutenant Chambers standing in the doorway of his office across the wide, busy squad room, arms crossed over his barrel chest. Dante was right on the mark with his assessment. Their superior officer did not look happy.
“What did you do now?” she asked, returning her gaze to his. She knew the answer. Wanted his version.
“Nothing serious.”
“Really? I heard your last case had a bit of a hiccup,” she returned, showing him she wasn’t clueless. In fact, she probably knew more about the results of his undercover operation than he thought she did.
His eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled at her. “Hiccup is an understatement.”
“Jumped in to make the arrest too soon?”
“Not by design. Six months of undercover work down the drain, but at least I got one arrest in the end.”
“Tell me what went wrong.”
“It’s not important.” His fingers repeatedly squeezed and released her bicep in a rhythm she doubted he was aware of. That was Dante, always moving. “What is important is that I need your help.”
One eyebrow rose. She knew what was coming.
“I’ve been relegated to desk duty until Chambers decides to give me a break. I’m behind on paperwork. Any chance I can talk you into a late-night catch-up session?”
“Reviewing reports? Why would I do that when I have my own to manage?” She held up the folders to prove her point, immediately missing the warmth of his grasp on her blouse-clad arm when he dropped his hand.
“We can go out for drinks afterward.”
“I don’t think—”
“That’s right. You don’t drink. How about grabbing some food?”
“I haven’t even agreed.”
A slow smile spread over his lips. “Come on, Ellie. Help a coworker out here.”
Eloise’s face burned. He was the only person in her life to have ever given her a nickname. “Eloise will do.”
“But you look like an Ellie.”
Did she? Her name happened to be a bit old-fashioned, probably the reason why her parents had given it to her when she was born. Literary professors, they loved classics from centuries past. But Ellie? The woman who dressed in a white blouse and navy or black skirt every day? Pulled her hair back in a no-nonsense bun to keep it out of her face? She was an Ellie?
Eloise tried to ignore his cologne, a musky aroma mixed with spice, tickling her nose.
“C’mon, Ellie. What do you say?”
“If I do help you, and I’m not saying I will, you’d owe me.”
It was only fair she ask for something in return. She might be dedicated to the job, but she wasn’t going to let him use that knowledge to push his work off on her.
His eyes lit up. “Sounds intriguing. What did you have in mind?”
Definitely not what his expression suggested, which probably included wild fun. She couldn’t imagine Dante living life any other way. And why was she reading anything into it? He was so far out of her league. Besides, her one experience with an almost work romance had crashed and burned. She didn’t care to replay that mistake ever again.
“My request would be that when we work together on a case, you listen to me.”
He tilted his head. Sized her up. “I don’t listen to you?”
“It’s not so much me as other officers you’ve worked with. You have a bit of a rep.”
Brows beetled over his eyes. “A rep?”
Like he didn’t know it. “You aren’t exactly a team player.”
“I get the job done.”
The edge in his voice told her she’d touched a nerve. “Let’s face it, you do rush into situations.”
“When it’s called for.”
Great, the chummy coworker was gone. He had his cop face on now.
A loud cough from behind drew their attention from the conversation and back to the lieutenant.
“How about we table this discussion and revisit it later?” she suggested.
He nodded, then strode away.
“Every time,” she muttered under her breath. Whenever she’d mentioned his...flaw, he withdrew. Because she called him on it? Or was he well aware and embarrassed? After all, he had cost the department an important case.
Hitching her shoulders back, she headed for her desk, ready to get some work done before any calls came in. The Palm Cove PD wasn’t huge. A two-story structure, the bottom floor was the command center of the building. Desks for officers were located on one side of a waist-high wall, the detective’s area on the other. Half of the desks were occupied, with low voices from fellow officers making follow-up calls or the slow tap, tap, tap of others writing up reports on a computer, and the remaining surfaces were littered with files and paperwork or messages.
A front desk situated behind glass in the lobby spanned one side of the building with a wall separating it from the officers’ desks; a holding cell took up the complete other side. Burned coffee emanated from a small kitchenette down the hallway in which they’d just stood.
Upstairs held administrative offices, including the chief’s domain. As the town grew, thankfully so did the budget. There were fifteen officers employed right now.
She’d just dropped the files on her desk when a chirpy voice waylaid her.
“Girl, we need to talk.”
Eloise turned to find Brandy Cummings resting a curvy hip on the side of the desk. In her midtwenties, she’d been hired fresh out of college, taking over the crime scene investigation position Eloise had vacated when she’d become a detective. Brandy was eager, smart and knew every detail of what went on in the department, official and personal. Eloise admired that. Physically, Brandy was the exact opposite of Eloise’s willowy shape and studious demeanor. And yet despite their different approaches to the job—hers methodical and well thought out, Brandy’s spontaneous but effective—Eloise wasn’t surprised when they’d become good friends.
“I overheard Lieutenant Chambers on the phone talking to someone about the sergeant position.”
Eloise glanced around them. “You know you shouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Listen in on private conversations.”
Brandy swiped a nonchalant hand through the air. “You need to know. He mentioned your name.”
Her heart accelerated.
“And Dante Matthews.”
And then came to a screeching halt.
“Dante? I’m surprised. The lieutenant doesn’t like Dante.”
“That’s for sure.” Brandy chuckled. tossing her thick, black hair over her shoulder. “Chambers calls him a danger and a disgrace. I swear I’ve seen his eye twitch when Dante’s name is mentioned.”
“That’s harsh.” Even if the danger part rang true.
Brandy shrugged. “Which means you’ll get the promotion.”
“I don’t know,” Eloise hedged. Even though she wanted the job. More than anything.
The rumors of the promotion had been circling the department for weeks, especially since they had yet to fill the sergeant position left open by a recent transfer. She’d passed the civil exam without a problem, made sure Chambers was informed of her grade and made her desire to be considered for the position known, then secretly kept her fingers crossed that she’d be offered the chance to move up in rank. She’d been on the Palm Cove police force for four out of her six years as a police officer, a detective for two, and hoped her experience weighed into the decision making.
“Chambers respects you.”
Eloise straightened the files and other office supplies positioned on her compulsively neat desktop. “That’s because I do my job and get my reports in on time.”
“And you work well with everyone. You’re good at supervising and making decisions.”
“So is Dante.” She remembered his earlier request. “Well, everything but desk duty, that is.”
“Yes, but you are the complete opposite of reckless.”
She stilled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“No. I mean, I’ve learned a ton from you. But sometimes you have to think outside the box. Dante has that ability in spades.”
Eloise frowned. “I could be reckless.”
Brandy burst out in a merry laugh. “Oh, honey.”
“Really, I could,” Eloise fumed. “Watch me.”
Brandy merely patted her on the arm and strolled away to start a conversation with a patrol officer who’d just walked in.
Who was she kidding? She plopped down into her chair.
Reckless was not a word she’d use to describe herself. She always had to push herself out of her comfort zone, especially since becoming a cop, and she was extremely proud of herself.
Now she had a chance to move up the ranks. Make a name for herself. Show her parents she’d made the right decision by forgoing a career in academics, like they’d wanted, and pursuing a degree in criminal investigation. A job she loved, with a possible promotion in her future.
The phone on her desk rang. She picked it up on the third ring, infusing an authoritative tone into her voice. “Detective Archer.”
“Eloise, it’s Tom Bailey over in Palm Beach. Got a minute?”
“Sure.”
She’d run into Tom, also a detective, at different police functions, since Palm Cove, located on the east coast of Florida along the Atlantic, was twenty miles north of Palm Beach. Actually, she’d applied to the Palm Beach PD when she’d sent out résumés, but Palm Cove had offered her a position first. Maybe one day she’d consider moving, but she liked it here and had the promotion to consider.
“We picked up a teen the other night. Lives in your area. Pulled him over while joyriding in a stolen car.”
Teen car thefts were a growing problem. Auto theft was bad enough, but the underage drivers usually crashed while the police were in pursuit. It seemed they got at least half a dozen calls a month from folks who’d discovered their cars were stolen.
“So what do you need from us?”
“It’s not really what I need, more of a heads-up. We’re cracking down on the problem here and hope we can share information in the future.”
“You know I’m happy to work together. This isn’t a problem that’s going away anytime soon.”
“I figured you did the research.”
How could she not? She’d had multiple cases on the offense, but what made it frustrating was that the underage kids were sent to juvenile detention, then released within hours or a few short days, only to become repeat offenders. Bragging rights could be found all over social media, which the department monitored, with kids posting pictures with key fobs around their necks like trophies or snaps of the speedometer when these kids drove in excess of one hundred miles per hour down the road. Worst-case scenario was if one of the kids found a weapon in a car they’d stolen, an added prize that propelled the legend they’d spread online.
“Have you noticed an increase in activity?” she asked, wondering about a possible connection. In Palm Cove, stolen cars tended to be more midpriced than high-end, but still, people weren’t happy when their mode of transportation disappeared. Worse, when the vehicle was found after a wreck, the owner had impound and insurance hassles ahead of them.
“There’s a small uptick.”
“Okay, well, I’ll keep you informed if I learn anything helpful.”
“Great. So, ah, are you attending the Maniacal Mudder charity run this weekend at Soldier Park?”
“I don’t think so.” She tried to attend police benefits in the surrounding cities, but didn’t always make every one, especially those that included running. Or mud. Who got enjoyment out of scaling obstacles while trying to keep their balance sprinting through a world of wet dirt? Her colleagues loved the challenge, but it made her shudder. The idea of landing face-first in a puddle of goop, losing her glasses and trying to blindly make it to the finish line gave her nightmares. She’d considered it once, when Dante taunted her about tagging along, but wisely chose to stay on the sidelines in the end. She was a much better cheerleader than participant.
“If you change your mind, maybe we can form a team. It’s not too late to sign up.”
Team up? Did he know her? She was anything but athletic.
“Sorry, Tom. I’m going to pass.”
“But you are going?”
“Um... I’ll try.”
“Then we can hang out. There’s a barbecue after the run.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She noticed a movement from the corner of her eye. The lieutenant ushered Dante into his office while Dante briskly knotted his tie before entering the room.
“Listen, I need to run. We’ll talk another time.”
“Sure. Ah, have a good day.”
“I will.”
She hung up, her attention already focused on the drama sure to play out on the other side of the office door. Brandy rolled over in a chair from a nearby desk.
“It’s gonna hit the fan now.” She practically squealed in delight. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall.”
So would Eloise, not that she’d admit it out loud.
Having previously seen Dante’s face when the lieutenant spoke to him, reading his body language had become second nature to her. Not only because of the annoying attraction, ugh, but because she always thought Dante made a good cop. If he could temper his restlessness, that is. He was smart, but he couldn’t stand still to save his life. Was it a lifelong problem? Was he one of those guys who craved an adrenaline rush? Questions like that popped into her head from time to time, especially when he got himself into hot water with the commanding officers. And he and Chambers were definitely oil and water.
“Do you think he’ll suspend Dante?”
Eloise hoped not. He was too valuable on the job, when he wasn’t making rash decisions. “I have no idea.”
“Desk duty?”
“He’s already on that.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not going to guess.” She met Brandy’s gaze. “And you shouldn’t, either. It’s none of our business.”
Brandy pouted. “Can’t help it. Office politics have always intrigued me.”
“Don’t you have a crime scene to investigate?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I was hoping to hold off a few more minutes to see the outcome.”
Eloise held back an eye roll. “If you don’t leave now, someone will report you.”
“Not Sam,” Brandy said, referring to the patrolman currently working the same case as Brandy. “He likes me.”
“Not if his job is on the line.”
“True.” Brandy stood and rolled the chair back. “Let me know what happens.”
As if she’d be privy to the details. Dante could be very closemouthed when need be.
She watched Brandy hurry away, reminded that she had plenty of calls of her own to make. If she wanted to get the promotion, she needed to worry about herself, not the meeting going on in the lieutenant’s office.
* * *
“YOU NEARLY COST us on your last assignment, Matthews.”
“I went over it with you. It was unexpected. Stone caught on when he saw the police cruiser stopped outside the house. It was either reveal the op early or lose it all.”
“You know the only saving grace is the fact that the sheriff’s department has an ongoing investigation with related drug dealers.”
“Trust me, I get it.”
The lieutenant sent him a steely glance. “Do you?”
Not again. Every time something went off script, Chambers came down on him like a hammer to a nail. The undercover investigation had been right on target, until the rookie had forced Dante to make a snap decision. It was like Chambers got enjoyment out of making him squirm.
“I know the other team on this case. They’ll tie the entire ring together. With the information I acquired, these guys will go away for a long time.”
Chambers merely grunted in agreement.
Dante’s knee started jumping. He forced pressure on it with his hand to keep the lieutenant from noticing.
“That’s not why I called you in here.”
But you couldn’t resist mentioning it yet again, Dante thought.
“With the possibility of a future undercover case coming your way, I need to know I can rely on you to keep your cool and get the job done.”
“You know I always follow protocol, sir.”
“And your idea of protocol is improvising?”
Why did this conversation not seem different from the one they’d started out with?
“I’ll be honest, I’m worried about you, Matthews. How many undercover operations have you been part of in the last year?”
“Three.”
“And while two have been successful, I wonder if it’s too much.”
Okay, taking down high-risk criminals was intense work. Pretending to be someone other than himself for extended periods of time took a toll. He’d learned to conceal the fear or anxiety in a dicey situation, while reveling in the adrenaline rush during a bust. He had no problem arresting the bad people under surveillance when the time came. It was the innocent bystanders who were pulled into a criminal lifestyle by association or relationships that did a number on his head. Undercover jobs weren’t for everyone, but it worked for Dante.
“I think you should sit out the next assignment. Handle more routine calls coming into the department.”
Dante controlled his annoyance by staring at the family picture of Chambers, his wife and kids displayed on a credenza behind the desk. Family. It’s what got him into law enforcement in the first place, a love-hate relationship he dealt with daily.
“Is this coming from you or higher up?” he finally asked.
“A mutual decision.”
He nodded. At least he wasn’t suspended, or worse. He’d made a mistake. Would take his lumps, even if it meant the dreaded desk duty.
“Is that all?”
“One last question.”
Dante swallowed a sigh.
“Do you wish to move up in your career?”
Unexpected. Chambers had never discussed Dante’s career path before. “Move up, sir?”
“You do know we need to fill the sergeant position.”
“Everyone knows.”
“You passed the exam. It’s been brought to my attention that a supervisory position might be a good move for you.”
The sergeant job? Yeah, it sounded appealing, but with his rep, he doubted he’d be in the running. And he doubly doubted Chambers wanted him in the position.
“Think about it,” the lieutenant said, rising, which Dante took as his cue to end the meeting.
“I will. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
As Dante closed the door behind him, he yanked at his tie. The conversation with Chambers set his mind in motion and the idea of being weighed down in paperwork didn’t thrill him. Would there be reams more if he made sergeant? A definite check in the con list.
He’d just settled in his chair when Eloise caught his eye. She was busy writing something on a yellow legal pad. No doubt jotting down notes on a case or for a trial. She was organized that way. Making sure to cross all her t’s and dot all her i’s. Had mad computer skills he lacked. But there was an air of uncertainty about her that he understood. It made him want to coax a smile out of her. She took everything in life so seriously, not even recognizing his teasing until they were well into a conversation. Calling her Ellie was just icing on the cake. He knew it rattled her and thought it might secretly please her.
Beneath her starched, professional persona, she possessed a determination that impressed him. He’d noticed it a few months back when they’d disagreed on a certain department policy. Most colleagues gave him wide berth. Not Ellie. She stated her reasoning, concise and to the point, and he took notice, real notice, of her for the first time.
And why that mattered, he couldn’t say. Just knew he liked her. Admired her dedication to the job. Along with her knowledge. She had a way of catching his eye and kept him looking. What else was hidden in those still waters?
She closed a file and tapped it on her desk to even the edges. A satisfied smile curved her lips until she glanced across the room and their gazes collided. Behind her glasses, coffee-brown eyes widened. Her cheeks turned pink. He found himself wondering if she dated and, if so, what kind of guy she went for. When she turned away, he knew his procrastinating had come to an end. With Chambers breathing down his neck, he needed to get some work done.
Her phone rang, and after a short conversation, she grabbed her bag and left.
The afternoon dragged on during his stint working the front desk. Hating every minute of being confined, it irked him that he answered the phone but couldn’t go on any calls. He took a break to pour himself some coffee, hoping caffeine would give him a much-needed jolt. Maybe he’d see which guys were participating in the mud run or engage in some office gossip to perk himself up. When he went back to the squad room, he noticed Ellie had returned.
Mug in hand, he sauntered to her desk. Leaned against the side.
“Heard you’re going to the mud run.”
Her head jerked up. “What? Who told you that?”
“Mason. Said he heard it from some guy over at the Palm Beach PD.”
“Well, he heard wrong. I have no intention of running in mud.”
“Chicken?”
Her eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Sane.”
“It could be fun.”
“Says who?”
Her horrified look had him chuckling. “I’ll take that as a definite no.”
“Because my first answer was unclear?”
“Touchy.”
She blinked at him. “Bleary-eyed.”
“Guess my wrangling you into reviewing my reports is moot.”
“I can’t provide information I have no knowledge of.”
“That’s right, we’ve never worked on a case together.” He took a sip of the bitter coffee and grimaced. “Although that might change. I’ll be around more often.”
“No new exciting cases?”
He shrugged. “Not for me. For a while, anyway.”
“So you hone your detective skills in the meantime.”
“Saying I’m rusty?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never worked with you.”
She’d used his words against him. He held up his mug and grinned.
“Not that I’ve asked not to be paired with you.”
“I never thought you did.”
She relaxed.
Add nice person to the mental list he’d been making about her earlier.
“How come you never go out with your fellow officers after work?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know. I’m not a terribly social person.”
“Why is that?”
She shoved her glasses up her nose. A nervous tick he’d noticed.
“Not good company, I guess.”
“Then why is a Palm Beach detective interested in you?”
Her mouth gaped open. “Why would you think that?”
“Because he told Mason.”
“Good grief,” she muttered under her breath, then met his gaze again. “I think work relationships are better left at work.”
Interesting. History there?
“Fair enough.”
The conversation lagged for a few moments. Ellie glanced at a clock on the wall. “I need to head out.”
“You never answered me about dinner tonight. Two colleagues discussing work over a burger and fries?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but thank you.”
She stood, gathered her purse and slid the chair up to the everything-in-its-place desk. He wanted to mess it up and see her reaction. Instead, he moved aside as she passed, her light floral perfume following in her wake. “See you tomorrow.”
“’Bye.”
He returned to his desk, a little disappointed. He would have loved to wrangle the truth of why she avoided work relationships out of her, but not tonight. He settled back in and, to his surprise, finished the last of his tasks in no time.
An hour later he ran along the broad sidewalk in Soldier Park that was situated parallel to the ocean, loud, headbanging music keeping pace with his stride. After a day of being mostly cooped up, he needed to get rid of the excess energy. Running had always been a way to do just that.
Or cars. Tinkering with an engine always grounded him. He never understood why, just accepted the gift. Working on cars had not only given him focus, but he’d spent the best times of his life working alongside his dad. It was the one thing they’d had in common. And growing up with three older brothers, it was also the one thing he didn’t have to fight and scratch for to get his father’s attention. His bothers preferred other activities.
Coming to the end of his run, he slowed down. The sun was setting. The early-spring temperatures were still cool for Florida, but in the next months the thermometer would begin to inch up to the ninety-degree days of summer. Dante would have to get up at dawn to handle the heat while he ran, but it beat going to the gym. Just wasn’t the same as getting out in the fresh air, charging past couples out walking their dogs or parents playing with their kids at the playground.
He stopped the iPod and yanked out his earbuds. Instead of raging guitars, the water crashing onto the shore greeted his ears. He gazed out over the undulating water, taking a deep breath. Salty with a mix of suntan lotion. Sunset, his favorite time of the day. He found peace watching the sun disappear from the sky, dragging streaks of pinks and oranges fading to purple with it, until the sky went black.
He loved it here in Palm Cove. His brothers, Derrick and Deke, worked in different states, and Dylan, on the opposite coast of Florida. When Dylan found himself falling in love during a case, their mother had decided to move to be closer to the only woman who, she was certain, would ever be a possible daughter-in-law. Jasmine Matthews knew how to lay on a guilt trip just as her boys knew how to sidestep her tactics. It was a game they played, more so since their father had died. Mom needed a hobby and acting like her world would end if she didn’t have daughters and grandbabies worked for her.
A smile crossed his lips. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed her number.
“Dante. It’s been nearly a month,” his mother accused in way of greeting.
“I was undercover. I told you and Dylan.”
“Dylan’s been busy chasing after criminals. You boys need to give me better details.”
“We can’t always do that.”
“Please.” She tsked. “Your father always did.”
Dante knew that wasn’t the case. Daryl Matthews had been on the force for thirty-five years. There was no way he told his wife everything.
“I was just thinking about Dad.”
Her voice softened. “A good memory?”
“Cars.”
She laughed. “You two did have fun. How’s the Cobra?”
The ’65 Mustang he was currently retooling. “You remembered.”
“I remember everything my boys tell me.”
Which was eerily true.
“Still tinkering, but I decided to paint it red.”
“Racy choice. Your father would have approved.”
Would he? In Dante’s choice of car color or career choice?
“Something troubling you?” she asked with her weird mom ESP vibe.
“Not really. I had a conversation at work today about my career. Not sure how I feel about it.”
“Since when have you not been able to make a decision? All my sons are very professional when it comes to law enforcement. I’m proud of each and every one of you, but out of the bunch, I worry about you most.”
He hesitated. Asked the question he’d never wanted to broach with his mom, but now seemed like a good time. “You don’t like me going undercover?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a few sleepless nights when I know you’re on a case.” The hesitancy in her voice made his chest clutch. “I may not know the particulars, but I know the situations you’re investigating can’t be good. Or safe.”
“I wonder sometimes if I could handle a job that required me to sit behind a desk more. It doesn’t seem natural.”
Jasmine laughed. “You never were one to be happy indoors.”
“Is moving up the ladder part of growing up? Dylan’s arrest rate at the DEA is impressive. Derrick has made a name for himself at the FBI and Deke is a well-respected forensic investigator. They’ve made great strides in their careers.” He tamped down the envy that threatened to bring him to his knees when he considered his brothers’ successes. He loved them; he just had a hard time following in their footsteps. “I guess I just never put a lot of emphasis on moving ahead in my career until now.”
“Then the question you need to ask yourself is, can you do the job?”
He thought about the sergeant’s test he’d passed. Studying had been excruciating, but he’d needed to prove to himself that he could do better than being the pesky kid brother who had to find inventive ways to keep up with his siblings.
He rolled his shoulders as he considered the question. Settled with, “I’m sure I could.”
“Okay, then ask yourself this. Do you want the job?”
He thought about his brothers again. Would he take a promotion just to be like them? To carry on the Matthews tradition to serve and protect? Or would he take a promotion, if it was offered, because he wanted the job?
“Guess I need to sleep on it.”
“Dante, whatever you decide to do in life, know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Your father would be, too.”
He swallowed hard. His father had supported him, but had also tried to temper Dante’s reckless streak when he was growing up. Tried to find activities Dante would find interest in to keep him out of trouble. And told his son it might cost him something he desperately wanted one day if he didn’t learn to control himself. Could a promotion be what he wanted? It certainly would have made his late father proud. Could he do it? The idea was planted in his brain now and he’d puzzle over it until he came up with an answer.
His mother broke into his thoughts. “When am I going to see you?”
“Maybe I can get over in the next week or two.”
“Don’t be a stranger. There’s this cute waitress who works at the local outdoor restaurant I’ve fallen in love with. She’d be perfect for you. I think—”
“Mom, I gotta run. Work might be calling me.”
“Might be? Dante Matthews—”
“Love you. Talk to you soon.”
Dante ended the call before his mother had him talked into calling this woman and asking her out on a date, sight unseen. He hoped Dylan got engaged soon, just to take the pressure off.
As he jogged back to his truck, he thought about work decisions, which then triggered visions of Ellie. Her lovely smile when she let her guard down. The deep brown of her eyes. She intrigued him, that’s for sure, which was odd, since she wasn’t his type. He went for women who were more put together in the looks department. Not that Eloise wasn’t pretty; she just hid behind the glasses, tightly pulled back hair and severe clothing choices. But his mother would love her.
Reason enough not to pursue the interest he’d discovered in her. He could already hear his mom humming the wedding march.
