Jordana planned to spend her day off working on background files for both cases but Clint had other plans.
“We need to get out of this town for the day,” he announced, causing her to look up from her notes with a quizzical expression. “Now that I’ve rented a car for the time being and I have some cash in my pocket, I say you let me treat you to a distraction.”
“You really shouldn’t draw so much attention to yourself,” she warned, worried that whoever had been after him still hadn’t left town. She had a hard time believing someone local had perpetrated the crime but she remained open to the possibility.
“What? I needed a car to get around.”
“Yes, but did you need to rent something so...flashy?”
“A convertible Mustang was the only vehicle they had in an upgraded coupe,” he apologized. “I’m not trying to be flashy. It was either the Mustang or some kind of boxcar that looked like it wouldn’t withstand a stiff wind. At least the Mustang is made from steel.”
She supposed she could understand that explanation. The rental agency in town was notoriously small without much of a selection. “You’re lucky you didn’t end up with a Buick LeSabre. That’s Bonnie’s favorite car in her fleet, which no one wants to ever rent but she won’t replace it.”
“Do they even make LeSabres anymore?”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head.
He clapped his hands, rubbing them together, excited to get back on topic. “Back to my original suggestion. Let’s distract ourselves from the noise and do something fun.”
She frowned. “A distraction is the last thing I need. I need to focus,” she said, pointing at the piles of paperwork all around her. “I need to double down if I’m going to find answers.”
He immediately countered with, “Actually, you’ll be more productive if you give your mind a break to recharge. Right now you’re spinning in mud and not getting anywhere.”
“How would you know this?” she asked dryly. “You can’t even remember if you like pineapple on your pizza much less what makes someone more productive.”
He paused for a minute to give her statement some thought, then decided definitively, “I do not like pineapple on pizza. Just thinking about it gives me hives. Seems unnatural. And, Miss Negative Nelly, I actually just read about a study conducted by the University of Illinois that concluded taking breaks helps the brain to reboot and aids in the formation in critical problem-solving.”
She regarded him with a curious frown. “Are you pulling my leg?”
“Not even a little bit. So, it’s science. Time to take a break.”
The warning from the captain rang in her head, but if Clint was right and taking a break actually helped her with the case, it seemed warranted.
A break would be great, though. Her eyesight was swimming from all the paperwork she’d been wading through with little to show for it.
“Let’s say I was open to the idea in theory—what did you have in mind?”
“I did a little digging around and there’s an indoor climbing place in Wichita that looks right up your alley.”
“Like, rock climbing?” she asked.
He nodded with a grin.
“What if I’m afraid of heights?”
“Are you?”
“No, but what if I was?”
“Then I guess I’d say, time to conquer your fears,” he answered, his grin widening.
Jordana bit her lip to keep from smiling. She knew all about the place he was suggesting. She actually went there when she could spare the time away. Since the warehouse bodies were found, it’d been a while since she could sneak away.
Was she impressed that Clint had accurately guessed what she’d find relaxing and enjoyable on her day off?
Okay, yes, a wee bit.
Was she going to take him up on his offer?
Not sure.
“I probably shouldn’t,” she hedged, still mulling the idea in her head. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to be out socially together.”
Clint balked. “Am I not good enough for you, Detective?” he asked with mock offense. She couldn’t stop the laugh that followed. Jordana shook her head and rolled her eyes. His gaze met hers, a twinkle matching the dimple in his cheek. “Look, it’s just an offer to climb a fake rock and sweat our asses off, not a marriage proposal. It’ll be good for both of us to blow off some steam. I may not remember much but I do recognize the signs of cabin fever and I definitely have it.”
Jordana should say no but she wanted to go. A day away from Braxville at her favorite place to hang out and, as Clint put it, “sweat their asses off” seemed like the perfect plan to her.
“Fine,” she relented, but not before reminding Clint of the ground rules. “This isn’t a date by any stretch of the imagination. We’ll pay our own way. I can pitch in for gas. Understood?”
“Buzzkill,” he teased, but nodded. “Understood. Like I want you slobbering all over me, anyway. You probably kiss like a Saint Bernard.”
She laughed harder at his obvious overkill in that department. Popping from her seat, Jordana grabbed her purse and jacket, saying, “I guess you’ll never know.”
Clint smiled. “Guess not,” he agreed, but there was something about his tone, or maybe it was his expression, that told a different story.
She suppressed a shiver and forced a bright, completely unaffected smile, saying, “I can’t wait to critique your driving skills. Not to make you nervous or anything but I’m a harsh critic. Between military and police training, I’m a stickler for the rules of the road.”
But Clint just laughed, taking her challenge with a level of confidence she found alluring. “Bring it. I’m impervious to intimidation.”
That shiver she was trying ardently to keep under wraps morphed into a full-body warmth that raced from her toes to the top of her head. She recognized trouble when she felt it but it was like trying to fight a food craving when she was starving. Even though she knew she ought to stop, Jordana couldn’t fight the urge to reach for the very thing she knew was bad.
Bad for so many reasons.
The man had amnesia, for crying out loud. He couldn’t possibly know what was good for him. It didn’t matter that his energy matched hers—he wasn’t in a position to act on those feelings.
But even if he wasn’t working on two instead of four cylinders, the fact didn’t change that she was investigating his case. There simply wasn’t any wiggle room for feelings.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Woman, I was born ready... I think,” Clint answered with a wink.
A change of scenery was just what the doctor ordered—a fact hammered home the minute they got out of Braxville. In spite of her promises to the contrary, Jordana was quiet and seemingly relaxed as a passenger. He liked to think it was because she trusted him but it was likely because he hadn’t been the only one needing an escape.
“What’s it like to grow up in Braxville?” he asked, making conversation during the drive. “Is it stereotypical to think that small-town life is all bake sales and community picnics?”
She chuckled, admitting, “Sometimes. I did go to my share of community barbecues and picnics. Also participated in quite a few bake sales.” Jordana smiled in memory. “I’ve definitely eaten my weight in chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in my day.”
“Are you an oatmeal raisin fan?” he asked.
Jordana made a face. “God, no. Throwing a raisin in a cookie is a quick way to ruin a perfectly good cookie.”
He laughed. “Okay, so tell me more about being a Braxville native.”
“Well, growing up in a large family in a small town is very insulating. It’s like you can’t breathe without someone asking you about your business. It’s bad enough when you have your siblings poking their nose into everything you do, but it’s made ten times worse when the neighbor down the street does, too.”
“Sounds like hell.”
“For a kid who wanted some space, it was, which was why I left and joined the Navy.”
“That must’ve been a culture shock,” he said.
Jordana nodded. “At first, yeah, it was overwhelming, but I liked the idea of a new adventure, seeing places I’d never been and meeting people outside of my bubble.”
“So you enjoyed your time serving?”
“Mostly, yeah.”
“So why’d you leave?”
“Because at the end of the day, I realized I wasn’t cut out for a lifetime in the military. I wouldn’t say I have a problem with authority but I definitely don’t like someone telling me what I can and can’t do every single moment of the day.”
“Makes sense. Do you miss anything about the service?”
“The structure,” she answered wistfully. “I liked that there was order, which was something I never had growing up. No matter how hard my mom tried, a houseful of six kids is going to be chaos at a certain level. I craved structure when I left home. I definitely got that and more from the Navy.”
“Why’d you come back to Braxville?” he asked.
“Turns out I missed home,” she replied with a small laugh. “And I wanted to go into law enforcement. When an opportunity to join the Braxville Police Department popped up, I took it.”
“Are you happy with that decision?”
“Of course,” she answered, but there was the faintest hesitation he sensed. Everyone had regrets, even people who said they were blissfully happy. “Sometimes I wish there was more action, but now I’ve got two cases without easy answers and I’m wondering if I should be careful what I wish for.”
“There’s a possibility my case is a simple robbery gone wrong,” he reminded her. “If it weren’t for the knot on my head and the amnesia, you probably wouldn’t be spending so much time on trying to find who did it.”
“You were assaulted. In a town as tight-knit as Braxville, an assault doesn’t go unnoticed. People feel safe here for a reason. I can’t just shrug off your case on the assumption that it was probably a failed robbery.”
He admired her dedication. There was a lot to admire when it came to Jordana. Damn, he wished he could remember more about his own life. It felt like half a person with his memory gone. “I thought this amnesia thing was something they made up in the movies. I didn’t know it happened to real people,” he said. “Being on the receiving end, I can tell you, zero stars. I do not recommend.”
She laughed. “I can only imagine. I’m sorry your memory hasn’t kicked in yet.”
“Yeah, me, too. It’s disconcerting not being able to tell if I like raisins or not.”
“Take from me, raisins are gross. Shriveled up little husks of former grapes...they’re not only gross but macabre, too.”
At that, he laughed. “Maybe I’ll take your word for it.”
They arrived at the place and exited the car. Jordana gave him a quick smile before saying, “You passed your driving test. You might not remember much about yourself but you remember how to drive. I consider that a good sign.”
He gestured to the massive building. “I guess we’ll see how good I am at climbing. If I fall on my face, promise not to laugh?”
“I promise no such thing.”
“Harsh.”
She winked as she pulled the door open. “Don’t fall.”
Excellent advice.
Don’t fall. He watched as Jordana walked with easy familiarity to the counter, throwing down some cash to enter. She wore tight leggings and tennis shoes and a formfitting top that showed off her trim figure. He didn’t know what he liked as far as women went but he liked what he saw in Jordana. Why was she single? Were all the men in Braxville dumb and blind? A lesser man might be intimidated by Jordana.
He found her breathtaking.
She turned to him, waving him over. “C’mon, pay up! I’m about to show you how it’s done.”
Clint grinned. “I love a woman with balls bigger than mine,” he quipped, throwing down his own cash. “But don’t worry, honey, I’ll go easy on you.”
“Challenge accepted, big man,” she taunted with a darling smile that made him want to throw her over his shoulder and claim her as his. Damn, it was a good thing he was about to get his sweat on because he had way too much testosterone pickling his brain.
As he watched her attack the hardest climbing wall in the place, lithe muscles working, determination etched on her expression, that reminder came floating back.
Don’t fall for her.
What if it was too late?