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She was older than Glen liked, but still had that sweet innocence about her. Naivete.
After the last woman he’d had the misfortune to date, Glen needed wholesome again. Now that the scratches on his face had healed.
She was close to the same age he was, with reddish-blond hair with only a hint of gray. Normally, he didn’t choose redheads, but she had a smile that reminded him of someone from long ago. She was prettier than many of the women he’d dated, even at her age.
His heart rate increased.
Glen sidled up to her side.
There was just something in the woman’s expression that told him she needed a friend in that moment.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thanks, I don’t actually drink the stuff. I’ve seen too much bad come out of it.” There was a sadness in her—one that Glen half recognized in himself.
“I’m Glen,” He took the seat across from her. “Can I at least buy you some nachos?”
She looked up at him, shaking her head slightly. “Thanks for the offer. But I have to get going. Work in the morning. And it’s been a tough week.”
Glen studied her. She was clean; her nails were polished, but it was clear. Natural. She had on some makeup, but it was light, almost natural looking. If he hadn’t seen the wrinkles next to her eyes, he would have thought she was younger than he suspected she was. This woman had that look that would make her age timelessly. Much like Glen did himself. Her teeth were good, showed signs of proper nutrition. This woman took care of herself. He liked that. A great deal. And her hands were beautiful. Unlike the last woman he’d touched. “At least tell me your name—and whether I’ll be lucky enough to see you around here again?”
“I...look. I appreciate the interest and the offer, but I’m just going to head home. I’m not the woman you’re looking for. Have a good night.”
The redhead stood. Glen bit back the anger. He hated to be rejected. He looked around. People weren’t watching, at least. He wouldn’t have liked that at all.
He started to block her path when someone came up behind her. “Veri!”
Glen didn’t miss the relief in her eyes when she turned to the younger man.
“Hey, Jeff.”
“You leaving? I’ll walk you out.”
Glen turned, quick. The guy was the size of a small bull—and the green of his TSP uniform was unmistakable.
“Thanks. I’d appreciate it. I’m on again first thing in the morning. I need to get some rest.”
“Yeah. It’s been a tough one. Even tougher on Bailey and Clay.”
Glen quietly stepped away. The TSP connection was unmistakable.
He saw her again when he was in the parking lot.
She was in the car that drove right in front of him.
The TSP deputy who’d walked her out was standing next to truck, talking away with two other men nearby.
Glen took her as the gift she was; he followed.
When she stopped at a gas station and ran in, he slipped from his truck and drove his knife deep into her rear tires.
Foolish to even consider dating a woman connected to law enforcement, but Glen had never taken rejection well. And he knew it.
Then Glen slid behind the wheel of his truck and waited.