Protector's Instinct. Janie Crouch
been over for a long time.” Zane had made sure of that.
Although she had to admit, it did look like he was coming directly to their table. But it most certainly would not be to talk to her. He’d gone out of his way to avoid her for the past eighteen months.
But five seconds later he stood right in front of their table, looking ridiculously sexy in his jeans and dark blue, long-sleeved collared shirt with sleeves he’d rolled up halfway to the elbow. November in Corpus Christi wasn’t cold enough for a jacket.
He wasn’t wearing his hat—that damned white cowboy hat he’d worn all the time. He was a Texan through and through and wearing it had been as natural to him as breathing.
He’d taken it off when he’d quit the force and she hadn’t seen him in it since. Not that she’d seen him much at all.
He didn’t need the hat. He wasn’t hiding anything but thick, gorgeous hair underneath it. But Caroline missed him in it. Missed what its presence had stood for.
“Hey, Zane,” Bridget purred. Caroline resisted the urge to slap her. Barely.
“Hey, ladies.”
Caroline didn’t know why Zane was at their table, but on the off chance it was to ask Bridget or Kimmie out, she couldn’t stick around and watch.
“Excuse me.” Caroline started to stand. “I’ve got to get going, you guys.”
“Actually, I’m here to talk to you, if you don’t mind,” Zane said. He was looking directly at her now, closer than he’d been in nearly two years. She slid back into her seat, unable to draw her eyes away from his.
“Um, Bridget and I have to use the restroom anyway,” Kimmie said, standing and grabbing the other woman’s arm before she could protest.
Zane nodded at them as they left, then slid into the booth across from Caroline.
“Hi.”
Of all the things she’d been expecting tonight, Zane coming over to chat with her hadn’t been one of the possibilities. He’d withdrawn from her so completely over the past months that a conversation hadn’t even been on her radar.
“What are you doing here?”
As far as greetings, it wasn’t concise or friendly, but hell, nothing about Zane made her feel concise or friendly.
“I had some errands to run in town and thought I would grab a bite to eat.”
He deliberately wasn’t answering the question he knew she was asking. “Yeah, it looked like you were pretty close to done when I arrived.”
He nodded and eased himself a little farther back in the booth, raising one arm up along the edge and knocking his knuckles gently along the column behind him. Damn the man and his comfortably sexy pose.
And damn sexy wrists exposed by his rolled-up sleeves. How could she have such a reaction from wrists, for heaven’s sake?
“I wanted to talk to you,” he finally said.
Her eyes flew to his face at that, in time for her to see his gaze slide over to his fingers that were still tapping against the column.
So whatever it was he wanted to say, he wasn’t exactly comfortable with it.
“Spill it, Wales. Just say what you came to say.” She honestly had no idea what it was. Her heart fluttered slightly in her chest that maybe he wanted to apologize for being so distant. For pulling away from her when she’d needed him. For keeping himself away.
Not that she’d forgive him and just let it go. Too much time and pain had occurred. But at least it would be a start.
His arm came down from the back of the booth and he leaned forward, placing his weight on both elbows. She couldn’t break her gaze from his brown eyes even if she wanted to.
“Caro...”
Now she almost closed her eyes. How long had it been since she’d heard him call her by her pet name? The name he’d called her when they were alone. The name he’d called her when they were making love.
Unbidden, she felt herself leaning closer, desperate for his next words. It didn’t have to be an apology; she knew the attack had cost him almost as much as it had cost her, although in a different way. Just some sort of acknowledgment that something had to change.
He cleared his throat, then continued. “You can’t go on that hiking trip. Alone? That’s absolutely stupid.”
It took her a second to process his words. To realize what she’d hoped to hear from him wasn’t anywhere near what was coming out of his mouth.
The pain reeled through her and stole her breath. Zane wasn’t here to tell her they should be together; he was here to tell her she was stupid. She wrapped her arms around her middle, almost afraid she would fly apart if she didn’t.
She looked away from him now, not even able to look him in the eye. She was an idiot. Why would she think anything had changed?
“Did you hear me, Caroline? I really don’t think this solo hiking trip is a good idea.”
Did she hear him?
Did she hear him?
Fury crashed over her like a tidal wave, obviating the pain. It was all she could do to stay in her seat.
“Do I hear you, Zane?”
He had the good grace to look alarmed at her quiet, even tone. At least he still knew her well enough to know when she was about to blow a gasket.
“Caro...”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t you dare call me that.” The anger felt good, washed away the slicing pain of being wrong about him again. “You don’t get to call me anything with any affection ever again.”
Her words hurt him, she could tell, before he shut down all trace of emotion on his features. Good. She was glad she had hurt him. Glad she still could.
“Fine,” he said. “I don’t have to call you any friendly name to tell you that going hiking by yourself in the middle of the wilderness is just plain stupid.”
Caroline looked over at the waitress who was walking by. “I need the check, please.”
“I need mine too,” Zane muttered.
The woman looked back and forth between them, a little concerned, before nodding. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
“Where I choose to take my vacation is none of your concern, Zane.”
“It is when no one is willing to tell you how risky and stupid it is.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Really? How much do you know about my plans, exactly?”
“I know you’re going hiking alone in Big Bend. That’s enough.”
Caroline clenched her fists by her legs and forced herself to breathe in through her mouth and out through her nose. She would not get in a screaming match with Zane Wales in the middle of a bar.
Unable to look at him without giving him the full force of her opinion—loudly—she surveyed the bar. Just about everyone was watching them, waiting for the fireworks. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d provided a colorful show. But it had been a long time.
“You don’t know anything about my plans, Wales. You don’t know anything about my life. Remember?”
“You say that like me getting out of your life wasn’t the best thing for you.”
She just stared at him. “Seriously?”
“And regardless, this plan of yours—” he said the phrase with such derision her eyes narrowed and she felt her temper rising to a boiling point “—is ridiculous. You can’t do it.”
Oh. No.