Blood and Sand (7 page)

“Something tells me you don’t much care about the decor.”

“No.” Then she tried her best for a flirtatious look. “Not that you don’t class up the place in that suit, George.”

It must have worked, because he leaned a little closer. “Class can be overrated. And I don’t have any complaints about the decor, not with you sitting there.”

“Is that so?” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. He was actually flirting back. Maybe her luck with guys was changing.

Connie brought his drink and he took a sip, raising his eyebrows a little when he tasted it. “She certainly doesn’t pour light. Are you trying to get me drunk?”

Natalie laughed. “Maybe? I haven’t decided yet.”

“I’m on to you now, Natalie.”

“Damn. There goes my dastardly plan to take advantage of you.” She wanted to bite her lip as soon as she said it.
Too soon!
 

George’s smile dropped and a distinct, hungry look came to his eyes. “Where would be the fun in that?”

She blinked in surprise.
 

His smile returned, but this time, it had a slightly wicked edge. “I’d much prefer to be sober when you take advantage of me.”

Okay, maybe not too soon.

Natalie could feel herself blushing again, but she ignored it. “Well, you’re certainly not shy.”

“Neither are you, despite that rather attractive blush.” His voice was a little lower, a little rougher. Natalie squirmed in her seat. Was she actually getting turned on by a complete stranger in a bar with the Padres playing in the background?
 

A shout rose from all corners, providing a much-needed distraction.

“Damn that ump!”

“Frickin’ blind is what he is.”

“If that was a strike, then call me Bunny.”

“Get me a beer, Bunny.”

The shout and the annoyed muttering broke the tension that had been building and Natalie sat up in her seat a little, taking another drink of her beer. “You a Padres fan?”

He smiled like he knew exactly what she was doing. “I’d be a fool to admit otherwise in this crowd.”

“Tell you a secret?”

George leaned closer. “Please Cer.ise in .”

“Oakland A’s.”

He pulled away. “Blasphemy.”

She shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone or my life is forfeit.”

He sipped his drink again, tracing his finger around the rim of the glass. Her eyes were playing tricks on her, because it almost looked like the ice in his glass followed the path of his finger. She shook her head.
No more beer, Nat.

“Can I tell
you
a secret?” he asked, staring at his drink.

“Of course. I’m very trustworthy.”
As long as you’re not a dirty politician or a bad cop.

His dark eyes focused on hers. It was ludicrous to say a spark jumped between them. No, it was more like… a pull. She wanted to lean closer, so she did.

“Giants.”

Natalie gasped. “That’s worse than me!”

“You hold my life in your hands.”

“I do.” She took another drink. “Great blackmail material.”

“I should have known. It’s always the pretty ones who are the most vicious.”

She laughed. “So, what do you do, George-who-isn’t-George?”

“Other than run into pretty girls at bars?”

“You’re being nice. I ran into you.”

“Maybe I bumped into you on purpose.” His dark eyes danced and his smile took her breath away for a moment. “And I’m in private security work.”

“Really? Mysterious.”

“Not nearly as much as it sounds.” He shrugged. “Mostly for clubs and other businesses. Casinos. Things like that.”

“So, your own business?”

“No, my boss is in LA.”

“Ah.”

“But I live here. Well, have lived here for the past three years or so. I’ll probably be moving back to LA eventually.”

“That’s interesting.”

“What do you do?”

Natalie smiled to herself. “I’m a reporter. A crime reporter for the
Tribune
.”

“So you make those lurid headlines they blast over the front page?”

“Ha!” She shook her head, pleased he hadn’t recoiled like many men did. Reporters didn’t exactly have the best reputation, especially among those in any kind of law enforcement or security work. If her dad hadn’t been a cop, the guys at the end of the bar would never have even given her the time of day. “No, it’s someone else’s job to do headlines. I just write the stories.”

“A writer, huh?” He looked thoughtful. “Hard job. Dangerous?”

“It has its moments.” She shrugged. “But it’s very rewarding. I’m working on a story right now about some girls out in the desert who were murdered. It’s kind of like the Juarez case. Are you familiar with it?”

He turned serious and the mood shifted. “Sure I am.”

She took another long drink of her beer. “It’s not as bad as Juarez. Not yet, anyway. I’m hoping to coordinate with some colleagues on the other side of the border. Find out what’s going on before it gets worse.”

“Is that a good idea?” His smile had fled. “To go looking into that? What about the police?”

“Clueless.” She shook her head. “Not clueless, exactly. It’s just that it’s happening in multiple jurisdictions. Multiple countries, even. There’s so much protocol and paperwork Cnd ueless, they have to do. Journalists have more freedom than police in some cases.”

He put his hand on her arm and she felt a tingling sensation where his fingers touched. “Natalie, do you really think you should—”

“You know…” She pulled her arm away immediately. “I get this funny feeling you’re going to be really presumptuous and say my work is too dangerous. Maybe that I should leave it to law enforcement and find something else to occupy my pretty head?” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “You weren’t going to do that, were you, George?”

“Nat—”

“Because you seem like a smart guy, but you don’t know me well enough to have an opinion about what I can and can’t do.”

“I wasn’t—” He stopped himself and there was a long pause. “I was. You’re right. I don’t know you well enough to make assumptions.”

“Thank you for not being an ass.”

“You’re welcome.” He didn’t sound happy about it, though. That was fine. Far more important people in her life had problems with her chosen career and she ignored them, too.

“Need help?” He raised an eyebrow. “Security work, remember? You need a bodyguard?”

Her heart sped as she imagined all the ways she’d be happy to have him guard her body. And there went the blush again. “It’s not really—I mean, I don’t need a bodyguard. Thanks.”

“No harm in offering.”

“You—” Natalie cleared her throat but couldn’t hide the smile. “How did you get started in security? Are you from LA?”

He let out some sound that was amused and irritated all at the same time. Interesting.

“No.” He did the thing with his finger on the glass again. And again, it looked like the ice followed it. It had to be a trick of the light. “No, I’m from San Francisco. Well, I was born in China, but lived most of my life in the US. My boss hired me in San Francisco. Trained me. Put me to work in his business. He does international work too, so having someone who speaks as many languages as I do is useful.”

“You don’t have an accent.”

He shrugged. “I don’t consider myself Chinese. I became a citizen long ago.”

Natalie laughed. “Well, not
that
long ago.” He couldn’t have been any older than her. In fact, if it wasn’t for the serious expression and knowing gaze, she’d say he was younger.

“I’m older than I look.” He slid closer. “I just have one of those faces. And how did you become a reporter? Did you always want to be?”

She pulled back a little and took a sip of beer. “Yeah. Ever since I was a teenager. I grew up in Oakland. Went to journalism school at UCLA.”

“No kidding?”

“Yeah. Moved down to San Diego for work. But I like it. You?”

He gave a rueful laugh. “Some nights I miss LA. Other times…” He looked at her. “I don’t.”

“I miss Northern California.” She frowned. Why had she told him that?

George blinked, obviously surprised. “I do, too.”

“Do you have family?”

He looked confused. “What?”

“In San Francisco?” She cleared her throat. “My dad still lives in Oakland, but we’re not close.”

“I… I do have family there, but I’m the same way. We’re not close.”

“Just a couple of strangers in a str Cgertheange land, then.” She squinted out the windows of the bar. “It’s so bright here. I miss fog sometimes. Miss the smell of the ocean. It smells like the ocean here, but not the right way. That probably doesn’t make much sense.”

He was looking at her, his mouth hanging open a little. “That makes complete sense.”

Natalie shrugged, feeling strangely exposed.
 

“May I call on you?”

“Uh…” She almost spit out the beer she’d been drinking. “Call on me?”

“Call. Call you. I’d like to see you again, if you would like.”

And there was the blush again. Damn automatic reaction. Curse her Scottish ancestors and their milky-pale skin. “I’d… Sure. You can call me.” She tried not to be flustered as she reached for her mobile in her purse. George leaned away as soon as he saw it. “Why don’t we just exchange phones? I’d… like your number, too.”

“I can give you my phone number, but I don’t have a mobile.”

She frowned. “Don’t have a mobile what?”

“Phone.” He looked amused. “A mobile phone.”

Natalie blinked, confused. “Y…you don’t have a mobile phone?”

George smiled. “Nope.”

“Are you… a time traveler? Alien?” She shot him a crooked smile. “Unexpectedly hitching a ride in a blue police call box?”

He burst into laughter. Thank God he was a
Doctor Who
fan. “No. I just don’t have one. Landline only, I’m afraid.”

“But your work… How do you get by without one for work?” She clutched her iPhone like it might run away into the attractive, phone-less man’s hands. “Mine is practically glued to me.”

“I can see that.” He was still laughing. “It’s probably because of work. Mobile phones are unsecured lines. Anyone can listen to your phone calls if they know what they’re doing. People store too much sensitive information on them. Especially smart phones.”

“Paranoid much?”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s not paranoia if they’re actually after you, Natalie.”

She tried not to smile. “You know… you’re kinda weird.”

For some reason, that was really amusing to him. “I’ve been told that before.” He laughed, and something about his smile, the angle of his head, jostled her memory.

You’re kinda weird.

You have no idea.
 

“Natalie!” Kristy called her name from the door. She’d almost forgotten she was supposed to meet her friend for the movie later. “What are you—Oh, hi there.” Kristy’s eyes bugged out when she saw George. “Hi. You’re not Marty.”

“Hey!” Marty yelled from a few seats away.

Kristy yelled back, “Not that I don’t love you, Marty! Hi. Natalie, introduce me to the pretty man.”

George cocked an eyebrow. “Pretty?”

“Oh, sexy eyebrow. Can I just call him sexy eyebrow?”

Natalie snorted. “George, meet Kristy. Kristy, George.”

“George…” She frowned. “…does not do you justice. I think I’m going to stick with Sexy Eyebrow.”

Luckily, George laughed at her crazy friend. “Kristy, it’s very nice to meet you. I was lucky enough to have Natalie spill a drink on me earlier.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She Chininformstroked George’s arm, mouthing “wow!” behind his back when he turned to grab his vodka tonic with the magic ice. “Do you want to join us? We’re going to a movie, and not even a chick flick.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t tonight. Maybe another time, though.” George grinned at Natalie while he reached for a napkin, then the pen in the inside pocket of his shirt. “No chick flicks, huh?”

Kristy said, “Natalie prefers things bloody.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

“It’s true.” It was also true that her friend was still stroking George’s arm.
 

The poor man didn’t even seem to object, he just handed Natalie the napkin. “I prefer things bloody, too. My number. There is an answering service if I’m not there.” Then he pointed the pen in her direction and handed her a napkin. “Yours? Before you escape to your bloody amusement.”

“Haha.” She took it and quickly scribbled her name and number on the napkin. “I feel so twentieth century, exchanging paper.”

“I’m old-fashioned like that.”

“Should I burn this?” She handed him the napkin and got up from the bar. He stood as well. Kristy, luckily, had backed away, but was blatantly staring. “After I memorize the number? Just to be secure, Mr. Paranoia?”