“Worried about what I was going to say?” Her large green eyes widened in exaggerated innocence. “Don’t be. I was going to say that only someone secure in his manhood could wear a tie that awful in public unless he’s someone who really loves his mother.”
“I can’t be both?” he teased back. Damn, he shouldn’t be doing this. He needed to at least begin to interview her before they arrived at the restaurant but he was having too much fun to stop.
“I guess you can.” She cocked her head; her expression grew pensive momentarily, then her brows lifted and a grin tugged at her lips. She nodded at him in obvious approval, making pride swell inside him.
Seth turned the wheel and pulled into a spot outside of
Philomena’s
.
He cut the engine and turned to find Jules staring out the side window at the restaurant, tugging on her left earlobe.
He shouldn’t care if she was nervous. Hell, he was nervous. Suddenly, he found himself praying that his instincts were correct and she truly was an innocent caught up in his case.
Only one way to find out: conduct the interview. He had a job to do and he was determined to do it. Yet he found himself asking, “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She stopped fidgeting and faced him. “Again, thanks for being so cool and not doing this interview downtown.”
“No problem.” He replied, noting the small shudder that went through her as she spoke. “Police stations make you that uncomfortable?”
“How did you guess?”
“You tug on your earlobe when you’re nervous.”
“I do?” She blinked.
He couldn’t quite suppress a grin as he watched her reach for her ear again. Realizing it, she suddenly dropped her hand to her side.
“Weird, huh? Being nervous about police stations, I mean.” She blushed.
“Not really,” he said, opening his door. Wanting to put her at ease again, he added, “They make most folks nervous, including me. The food there is terrible.”
She laughed.
He hurried around to her side of the car, but she’d already exited. She stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the giant pita his cousin Antony had assured his mother would increase sales. The enormous sign hung precariously from the roof and looked as if it might launch itself at some unsuspecting customer at any moment.
From the way Jules trailed her gaze from the cumbersome pita to the front door and back again, Seth suspected her thoughts ran along the same lines. Jules said, “I don’t remember that being here when I was in high school.”
“It’s fairly new.” Resisting the urge to go around and enter through the back door, like he normally did, he captured her by the elbow.
She jumped but didn’t pull away.
“Shall we?” He leaned down to whisper into her ear.
“You betcha!” Jules grinned and her eyes twinkled.
Seth opened the door and waited for Jules to cross the threshold. He followed her inside and tried to keep his eyes off her perfect heart-shaped ass.
They were here to conduct an interview. And he needed to get his head on straight before his mother caught him ogling. Otherwise, she’d have them engaged and their wedding planned before the moussaka was served.
• • •
T
HE RESTAURANT WAS
a nautical Greek-themed establishment with a homey quality. Flags, rugs, and posters from the Greek Isles decorated the walls and ceiling. Even the muted ceiling fans turning quietly above accentuated the Mediterranean feel.
Jules loved it.
She inhaled the warm aromas of Greek spices, fresh pizza, and lamb. The deli counter to her left bustled with energy. Two women hurried behind the counter, taking orders and passing slips of paper through a window to the kitchen, where a man served up the food on stoneware plates. Unlike most of the mom-and-pop places in Tidewater, which had disposable dishes and utensils, Philomena’s used actual flatware and real plates. Blue glasses and hand-painted plates laden with made-to-order food graced the half dozen cloth-covered bistro tables near the front.
Along the opposite wall from the kitchen were booths with navy linens on the tables and white cloth napkins waiting beneath gleaming silverware. The leather seats of the booths shined beneath muted colors of mosaic-style lamps hanging over each table.
A pretty brunette waitress loaded several delicious-smelling meals onto her tray. She bent her knees before propping the overly large tray onto her right shoulder, then straightened. “Thanks, Uncle Antony,” she shouted through the open kitchen window to the surprisingly handsome blond cook.
When she spun around, the girl froze a few feet from where Jules and Seth stood. Her hazel eyes wide, she glanced over her shoulder to the women behind the counter, who paid her no attention.
Seth grabbed Jules by the hand, practically dragging her through the small eating area to a booth at the back of the restaurant. She probably should have resisted being hauled around like a child, but she was too curious. The man ran hot and cold, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had him nearly pole-vaulting over the tables to the tiny booth nestled against the far wall near the restrooms. It might have seemed an odd choice, but the place was packed.
As they seated themselves, Jules glanced up to see Seth’s black brows lower and his mouth flatten into a thin line. He thrust a plastic-coated menu in her face, inadvertently smacking her in the nose with it.
“Oh. Did I hurt you?” he whispered, pulling the menu out of her hand.
Jules gasped when his index finger stroked the bridge of her nose. His lightly roughened skin soothed away any sting she might have experienced and sent her heart tripping. Seth turned his hand over and caressed her cheek with a knuckle.
Just like in the car, her defenses lowered. She reminded herself she shouldn’t show weakness around him. He might be the sexiest man she’d ever seen up close, but Seth had a fatal flaw no amount of beauty could fix. He was a cop on a case. A case that involved her in ways someone like him would never believe.
Heck, she hardly believed it herself. But it couldn’t be a coincidence that she’d first seen the ghost while in the Dumpster with a dead body.
She needed to be extra careful around him. But careful slipped further from her mind when the left side of his mouth curled into a lopsided grin. He rotated his hand until his palm cupped her cheek and his thumb stroked dangerously close to her lips. She wanted to nibble it. She wanted to stretch like a cat and press her face against his hand in a silent plea for him to pet her more. She nearly did until sanity clawed its way into her psyche.
She wasn’t a cat. He wasn’t really interested in her for anything other than the case. And this wasn’t going to end with a happily ever after.
Straightening so he could no longer touch her, Jules stammered, “I’m fine. I’m . . . good.”
She felt bereft without his warm fingers gliding across her skin. If only she could shake off her hot, lustful thoughts. Life could be so unfair. Why couldn’t she be attracted to simple, non-police types?
“Welcome to Philomena’s,” the statuesque brunette said, appearing at the booth. “What can I get you today?”
Jules glanced around but saw no trace of the enormous tray of food the woman had been carrying moments before. What she did see was a distinctly interested smile on the waitress’s face as she looked at Seth.
For his part, Seth appeared absorbed by his menu, not even sparing the young woman a glance.
Jules had heard of people staring with their hearts in their eyes but had never actually seen it before. The waitress’s gaze had zeroed in on Seth’s face and she seemed oblivious to Jules sitting there or even Seth’s decidedly distant demeanor.
The girl, who appeared no older than eighteen, seemed to know him. And Seth’s refusal to glance up only proved it.
A pang of something hot and sharp hit Jules in the chest. The surprising and unjustified flash of jealousy was so intense she hoped it didn’t show on her face. Then again, neither Seth nor the waitress glanced Jules’s way for a good thirty seconds.
The waitress’s smile wavered and she turned a puzzled gaze to Jules. “Do you know what you want to drink, miss?”
“Yes.” Jules grabbed the menu and quickly scanned the beverage section. “I’ll have a glass of strawberry lemonade, please.”
“And you, Dad?” The waitress turned back to Seth. “Do you see anything
you
like?”
“Coffee.” Seth said at the same Jules asked,
“Dad?”
Relief washed over Jules like a warm wave crashing on the shore.
She’s his daughter!
Wait. Why did she care about Seth or his relationships? She shouldn’t. She
didn’t
. Did she?
Seth groaned and waved a hand in the air. “Jules, meet my daughter, Theresa.” He gestured to the waitress. “Theresa, meet my neighbor, Jules.”
“Your
neighbor
, Dad?” Theresa grinned at Seth, then turned her head to eye Jules. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Theresa.” Seth’s voice sounded strained. “Can you bring us our drinks, please?”
“Sure! I’ll be right back.” Seth’s daughter hurried away in a bouncy jaunt as she moved through the restaurant.
He watched her leave, a muscle working in his jaw. Then he muttered under his breath, “This is gonna cost me.” Rising from his seat, he added, “Excuse me a moment.”
He followed the girl. From across the busy restaurant, Jules watched him catch Theresa by her elbow and usher her into a corner. He spoke rapidly and the girl simply nodded. The smile on her face never wavered even as her curly brown ponytail bobbed with each nod.
Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, Theresa hurried off. Seth watched her go and then turned and faced Jules. She shouldn’t have watched them but his words—
This is gonna cost me—
replayed in her mind.
What could a lunch cost him that he needed to chase down his daughter and have a private conversation? Too many things sprang to mind. And none of them good.
Seth’s shoulders were drawn tight and he radiated tension as he made his way back to the table.
“Sorry about that. But Theresa loves to gossip. Thought I’d better stop her before the entire family descends on us,” Seth said when he returned. Lowering himself to his side of the booth, he fiddled with his napkin-wrapped utensils before drumming his fingers on the table.
Jules glanced around. “This is your family’s restaurant? I mean I knew it was locally owned but I didn’t realize when I asked to come here . . .”
“It’s okay,” he said, shrugging. “I didn’t think you knew. Like it?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “Your daughter seems very sweet.” She paused, then blurted the question foremost in her mind. “How old are you?”
He gave her a wry grin. “Thirty-five. Curious how I have a teenaged daughter?”
She nodded, then admitted, “Sorry. None of my business.” Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Because where there was a child, there was usually a mother.
Seth blew out a breath, then said, “At seventeen, I got my sixteen-year-old girlfriend pregnant. Her parents threw her out when she wouldn’t have an abortion. She moved in with my mother, my sister, and me. The weekend after we graduated high school, I married Catherine. Six months later, Theresa came laughing into the world. She’s been laughing ever since and turning my hair a little more gray every day.”
Jules’s shoulders drooped and her eyes rounded. “Oh, I-I didn’t realize. Wow. You were a teen father? Did you live with your mother after Theresa’s birth?”
“No, I rented the apartment above the restaurant.” He hiked a thumb in the air to indicate the ceiling.
She glanced around then back at him. “How did you go from a teen dad living over a Greek restaurant to being a police detective?”
“For the first year I worked two jobs and took college courses at night,” he said, shifting in his seat. “A week before my nineteenth birthday, I joined the police academy. Nine months later, I joined the force in Tidewater. I eventually earned my bachelor’s degree.” He grinned, radiating pride. “Theresa and I graduated the same weekend. She graduated in her little red gown from preschool and I graduated from Tidewater University.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet.” Jules grinned and she rested her chin in her right hand and sighed.
“There’s a picture in my bedroom of our graduation day.” A devious glint lit his expression before he asked, “You didn’t see it?”
Jules’s cheeks heated. “Um . . . no.”
“Oh, you should come over again sometime and I’ll show it to you,” Seth said, teasingly.
As much as that idea appealed to her—more than it should—she couldn’t help wondering about Theresa’s mother. Granted, she hadn’t seen a ring on his finger or anything feminine in his bedroom, but still. “You . . . you aren’t still married, right?”
“No. I’m definitely not married. Catherine has been gone a long time.” He frowned; all humor fled his expression. “And we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about your adventure yesterday.”
“Right.” An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Jules wasn’t sure how to fix it. She shouldn’t care that Seth wasn’t married anymore. It was none of her business. Except it stung in ways she didn’t like to admit, that this handsome man wanted nothing more from her than information about his case. It shouldn’t. But it did.
Every time Jules started to relax around him, Seth did something to remind her of what he was. A cop. And that was exactly why she shouldn’t care about him or his love life.
Tugging at her earlobe, she fidgeted with the sapphire stud in it until Seth cast her a knowing glance. She dropped her hand to her lap, straightened her back, and ignored the automatic pull at her defenses that seemed to perpetually happen around him.
Seth was a threat to her peace of mind. He hadn’t brought her here to get to know her. He’d done it to keep her off balance. She’d sensed it almost immediately. But strangely, she also sensed
he
was uncomfortable.
And it was definitely a sensory perception. Outwardly, Seth epitomized calm and smooth. Still, snippets of anxiety pinged off her chest, as if shot from a bow, whenever his gaze met hers.