Patient Darkness: Brooding City Series Book 2 (12 page)

“Wow, that was lucky.”

“Tell me about it.”

Clara smiled lightly as she held out her glass to be filled again. “So you and a SWAT team busted in and saved her?” Heat flushed in his cheeks as Brennan recalled that night; Clara spotted the blush, and her wine hand dipped in response. “Don’t tell me you went in there
alone
!”

“No, of course not. That would have been stupid.” He poured until her glass was full. “I brought a friend.”

She eyed him sternly. “Let me get this straight. You and your pal took on a violent drug lord, in his home turf, to save the damsel in distress? Without any backup?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds a little absurd…”

“Where was the rest of the police force?” she demanded.

At home, because I couldn’t easily tell them my nephew had a drug-induced hallucination that led us straight to Bishop.

“They were exhausted from the dual raids,” Brennan explained, keeping to his cover story. “After Bishop’s team got hit, we spent the rest of the evening hunting down possible leads without any success. When I got the call, it was the middle of the night and most of us were already asleep. Besides, my informant wasn’t what you would call a credible source.”

Clara tried frowning, but her habitual smile cracked through the disapproving mask. “That is so…incredible. I would
never
be able to do a job like yours, not in a million years.”

“Thanks.” He considered it for a moment. “Is that something you say thanks for? When someone tells you that your career is just a little too insane for them?”

“That isn’t what I meant!” Clara took another mouthful of wine, and her eyes fluttered rapidly as she started feeling its effects. She set her glass down on the table and looked at Brennan directly. “You lead such an amazing life compared to most people. In comparison, mine is so ordinary and—”

“Safe?”

She laughed. “I was going to say boring, but safe works just as well.”

“Is that why you were on CopAFeel? Are you a bit of an adrenaline junkie?” He didn’t know where the huskiness in his voice came from, and it felt unnatural to him, but it was apparently working well on Clara. She leaned closer in response to his voice.

“You could say I’m attracted to danger,” she whispered. Her gaze tracked all over his suit, and Brennan felt like she was undressing him with her eyes.

I thought Sam was the only person who actually did that. To women, not me,
he added self-consciously, as if anyone could hear his thoughts anyway.

“I’m attracted to a dangerous man who can keep me safe,” Clara continued. Her thumb was massaging his hand more insistently now. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” Brennan said, leaning in. “I think that’s basically every love story, ever.”

Their mouths met, and Brennan tasted the wine on her lips and tongue. The taste was sweet and savory, and he was reluctant to part ways after a few seconds had passed. It was an unfamiliar feeling that he was experiencing. After several years of marriage and even more years of grieving bachelorhood, Brennan was now emotionally attached to Clara in a way that would have seemed impossible just a few days ago. It was lust right now, he knew, but perhaps with time it could develop into something more meaningful.

That’s crazy,
the rational part of his mind argued.
I haven’t even
known
about her for a full day.

Clara’s eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, and she wore a satisfied grin as she leaned back into her seat. The blue lighting from the backlit waterfall behind her did interesting things to her features. If she had been lovely outside the restaurant, now she looked absolutely beautiful. Certain parts of Brennan clamored for her attention, for her lips to rejoin his and venture onward from there, but just then the second course arrived.

Chef Ray and the blonde waitress each held a dish of something that smelled absolutely delicious, and the scent that now wafted toward Brennan was sublime. His mouth watered as he looked at the meal before him, and his excitement was mirrored in Clara’s expression.

“All right, folks,” Chef Ray said. “For the second course, I’ve prepared for you pan-fried calamari with hot cherry peppers, accompanied by a rouille sauce.”

After thanks were given and Chef Ray left, Clara took a fork to her calamari without preamble. She moaned as she chewed the succulent seafood, and she washed it down with another small sip of wine. “This is delicious,” she said. “Definitely worth the small mortgage it took to come here. What is it?”

Her last question was in response to the sudden grin that took over Brennan’s face. “Nothing,” he replied. “I just made a very similar comment to my nephew earlier this evening.”

“Great minds think alike, I suppose. It sounds like you are fond of your nephew. You’ve mentioned him twice so far.”

“Have I?” Brennan smiled at the observation. “We seem to be getting a little closer each day. There have been a few rough patches, but on the whole…yeah, he’s a great kid.”

“That’s awesome,” Clara said enthusiastically. “Really, it’s impressive that you two can get along so well. I can’t tell you how many cases I’ve seen where trauma happened within the family because parents and children couldn’t find a way to communicate effectively.”

“He trusts me, it’s as simple as that.”

Clara frowned. “What about you? Do you trust him in return?”

Brennan thought of the night they had rescued Bishop, the night in which he had willingly chosen to put Greg in danger because his nephew had promised he could help. He had trusted him that night, but was it just his sixth sense that had caused him to believe Greg’s sincerity?

“It’s complicated,” Brennan said. “I like to think that I can trust him, but then I remember that I’ve had good reasons to be wary.”

Just then, the waitress came back with two new glasses of wine, red this time. “This is a Scarecrow Cabernet Sauvignon,” she said, placing the glasses on the table. “It’s a medium-bodied blend with tastes of blackberry, plum, and dark chocolate.”

They thanked her as she left the table. Brennan used the brief intrusion to change topics. “If you could do anything you wanted, without having to worry about money, what would you do?”

“Anything at all?”

“To your heart’s content.”

Clara used the time spent chewing another piece of fried squid to think of a response. “I think I would want to travel,” she said. “There are a lot of places I haven’t been to yet that I always dreamed of visiting when I got older. Now that I’m here, though, I have a job and a house and other obligations that I can’t drop all of a sudden. It isn’t even about the money, though that’s a big factor. I have a
life
here. I would miss my friends and relatives.”

“Do you come from a big family?”

“Oh, yeah. Huge. I have eight brothers and sisters, though they’ve moved all throughout the country by now. What about you?”

“My family is significantly smaller,” Brennan said vaguely, sipping his wine. “It’s basically just me and my nephew now.”

Clara nodded and wisely dropped the subject, just as their third course arrived. Chef Ray was grinning ear to ear as he delivered two plates that smelled like heaven. “For our final course tonight, we have a sliced filet mignon with Cipollini onions and wild mushrooms.” He turned to address Brennan. “I just want to thank you so much for coming out here tonight, and if you ever need anything, you know who to call.”

Brennan smiled easily; it was hard not to respond to the infectious enthusiasm of the chef’s good nature. “Thank you,” he said, feeling it deeply. “And Sam thanks you.”

“Anytime, anytime. You two have a wonderful evening!”

Water trickled behind them as Brennan and Clara each took a bite of the filet mignon. They moaned in unison and snagged another slice each before the conversation resumed.

“So what would you do with unlimited time and resources?” she asked, rebounding the original question.

“Oddly enough, probably the exact opposite of you. I’d want to find somewhere quiet to settle down and relax.”

“You don’t suffer from wanderlust?”

“I think it is a fantastic word, but no, not really. I got a lot of that out of my system early on.”

“Oh? Where have you travelled?”

Images flashed in his head, memories of his time as a Sleeper on international missions. He had never felt more alive than when he was running through the old medina in Rabat, silenced bullets whizzing past his head even as the call to prayer sounded out in the early morning. “I’ve been to Morocco a few times,” he said vaguely, counting off with his fingers. “I toured around Europe once when I was in college, which was nice. And my father used to have business in Ontario, so I have had my fill of Canada as well.”

“Wow,” Clara said, shaking her head. “I feel like a broken record, but I am insanely jealous of your life. You didn’t tell me what you
would
do with all that free time. What do you find relaxing?”

Brennan was starting to feel a little lightheaded as the wine worked its way through his system, and he could tell that Clara was experiencing a similar buzz. “I like to read,” he said. “I find science fascinating, but I’d never have the patience to do any of it myself. Maybe I’d buy a remote mountain cabin and become an amateur astronomer.”

Clara laughed and raised her glass in salute. “I would one hundred perfect support that dream. Percent,” she corrected. “One hundred percent.”

“All right, you’ve had enough,” Brennan joked. His cheeks hurt from grinning so much.

“But the evening has only just begun,” Clara said. Her eyes danced with suggestive promise, and she leaned in for another kiss. Brennan met her halfway, and he held the kiss for several long moments before breaking away. Clara’s expression was a mix of hunger and uncertainty, and she spoke with the deliberate pace of questionable sobriety. “I like you, Arthur Brennan. You’re clever, funny, and you care deeply for those who are close to you. There aren’t many good men like you around these days.”

Brennan swallowed hard. He heard his heartbeat reverberating in his skull. “I feel the same way about you,” he managed, his throat suddenly dry. “I like you too.”

Clara set down her wine glass and slid to be seated shoulder to shoulder with Brennan. Her breath mingled with his as they looked into each other’s eyes. “Let me know if I am moving too quickly,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

“At this point, I think we can safely skip dessert, right?”

“Definitely. You can have a special dessert back at my place.” Her lips pursed slightly in contemplation. “If you want to, that is.”

Brennan felt drunk on her perfume and found himself lost in the moment. A niggling thought pulled at the far threads of his consciousness, but his mind was too foggy to pay it much attention. Breathlessly, he said, “I can’t think of anything I want more right now. Don’t your cheeks hurt yet?”

Already grinning, Clara’s smile widened slightly more. “Not at all. You clearly need more practice at this happiness thing,” she teased.

“I may need your help with that.” He kissed her lightly.

“Don’t worry, my fees are very reasonable.” Clara stole another kiss before shifting her attention to the entrance of their secluded seating area. Brennan followed her eyes and saw the waitress standing patiently, her eyes skillfully neither focused on their embrace nor completely ignoring them.

“Can I interest you two in any dessert tonight?” she asked. Her eyes twinkled with amusement, but she was professional enough to keep her face from revealing anything more.

“I’m about to be stuffed,” Clara said, and then her cheeks turned a deep crimson. “I mean, I’m about stuffed. With food.” She sealed her lips before she could say anything more.

“Just the bill, please,” Brennan said quickly.

Their waitress glanced at him sideways. “Your meal has already been paid for in full, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Sam.

“No, thank you. Everything was excellent.”

“I will pass your compliments on to the kitchen,” she promised. “I hope you two have a fantastic rest of the evening!” She collected some of their finished plates and left.

Brennan looked over at Clara. “The night doesn’t have to end here, you know.”

“Does that line ever work?”

“If you say yes, I’ll be one for one.”

Clara grinned. “I’m going to say no to the line, but yes to the offer.”

“Really?”

“I already offered dessert back at my place, remember?” She grabbed her purse and slid out from the booth. “Enough foreplay. Are you coming tonight or not?”

He accepted her outstretched hand. “Plus one point for the pun,” he said. He didn’t know what was going on with this evening, except that his legs were carrying him out of the booth and through the restaurant as Clara guided him to the exit. His brain was working at half power as his heart pumped blood to more significant regions.

The conflicted feelings he had suffered earlier in the evening were waning, replaced instead by a deep yearning that could only be quieted in one way. He allowed himself to be drawn by Clara’s confident grip on his hand into the cool air of the nighttime air. At least an hour and a half had passed inside the restaurant, and as Clara wrapped her arm around the crook of his elbow, Brennan wondered if Greg had relocated to Sam’s place or if he was still at home waiting for a text message.