Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents #7)(31)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Seriously? Rachel actually found herself laughing in response to that. “We have,” she told him, shaking her head. “You tried to buy me a drink at this very pub, and I thanked you, but didn’t accept.”

His eyes widened and his fingers snapped. “The lady with the boyfriend who wanted to slam his fist into my face!”

Wait, what? Rachel realized that the guy had been drinking. He was weaving a bit on his feet. So maybe his drunken state would explain his confusion about Dylan. “He wasn’t my boyfriend.” She thought it was best to be clear about that. “And I don’t think he wanted his fist anyplace near your face.”

“He did.” The blond nodded as bodies slipped past them. “I can tell. It was in his eyes. The old she’s-mine look. I know it when I see it.”

Rachel shook her head again. “Maybe you were wearing beer goggles that night.” Just like tonight. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said again, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd.

“Then maybe I do have a shot.” The blond smiled at her. He was a handsome guy, with bright blue eyes and even dimples that flashed. He offered her his hand. “Brent Chastang.” He winked. “I’m a lawyer.”

An inebriated one. She took his hand, cautiously. She knew what Brent wanted—flirting and a fast hookup. She understood guys like him. But men like Dylan…

I don’t want to understand him.

“Does saying that you’re a lawyer usually help with the ladies?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.” His shoulders sagged. “Not with you?”

Uh, no. “I was a lawyer, too.” She pushed back her hair. “In another life.” Then she turned away from him and made her way to the bar. She wanted to sit down and just…soak in the noise and life around her.

She’d thought before that the pub wasn’t her scene. But she didn’t want to be alone then. Not with pain seeming to squeeze her heart.

Rachel eased up onto the bar stool. Aidan glanced over at her. “Back again, are you?”

Rachel nodded.

He put his hands on his hips. “You scared me the other night.”

She winced. “It was just a bump on the head.”

“That came when your car was bombed.” He edged closer to the bar and to her. “Are you in any kind of trouble? Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Tell me the truth,” he demanded. “Because if Patrick thought you were in danger and I wasn’t helping, he’d roll over in his grave.”

His words made her smile. “The only kind of help I need right now… Well, I just need something to make me forget for a little while. I want to relax and be happy.” A tall order.

“Tell me the drink, and it’s yours.”

Hmmm. “I’ll have—”

“Look, Ms. I Don’t Have a Boyfriend…” Brent’s voice was a little too loud as he eased onto the seat beside her. “How about we start all over again?”

Aidan’s eyes slid to Brent. “How about I call you a cab?”

Brent blinked. “But I wanted to buy her a drink!” He leaned over the bar toward Aidan. “She’s an ex-lawyer, you know. Totally my kind of girl.”

Rachel thought all women would fall into the category of being his kind.

“Thanks, Brent,” she told him, giving him a smile. “But I’m not looking for any sort of hookup tonight. I’m getting a drink, then I’m going home—alone.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flashed over his face, but he rallied quickly. He pulled out a business card. Put it on the bar in front of her. “If you change your mind, you can always find me here.” He winked at her.

Right.

Then he wobbled off his chair, his attention obviously caught by a new, fresh target.

Yes, men like Brent were very easy to understand and to dismiss.

It was men like Dylan who could rip a woman’s heart right out of her chest.

Sighing, she glanced back toward Aidan.

He raised a brow. “Want me to trash that card for you?” The Irish rolled lightly in his voice.

“Yes.” Definitely.

He grabbed it, ripped it up and tossed it. “Done.” His eyes gleamed. “Next order of business…a free drink for my grandpa’s favorite girl.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we just try Paddy’s Whiskey again,” he said as he began to prepare her drink.

Rachel rested her hands on the bar. Her shoulders rolled as she tried to dispel the tension from her body.

“Why do you look so sad tonight?” Aidan pushed the drink toward her.

Someone shouted his name, but he didn’t look away from her.

Her fingers curled around the glass. “I don’t like being wrong about people.”

He tilted his head as he watched her. “But people lie.”

She nodded. “They trick you, and you don’t see it coming.” She took a sip of the drink. It seemed to warm the cold spots inside of her. “I quit my job today.” Her eyes widened when she blurted out the words.

He smiled. “Surprising, isn’t it? What folks will say to the bartender.” He shook his head. “Oh, the stories that I’ve heard…”

She took a longer sip.

“Your guy isn’t going to come storming in here again?”

Maybe. As soon as Dylan discovered that she’d quit the EOD, he might come looking for her.

“I was worried about you,” Aidan said, the faint amusement fading from his gaze. “I’m glad you weren’t killed.”

“Me, too.”

“I know a bomb blast when I see one,” Aidan added as his voice lowered. “Not some engine malfunction or gas leak like the news is trying to say.”

No, it hadn’t been. That was just Mercer trying to do damage control and make sure folks in the city didn’t panic.

“If you’re in trouble, I can help,” Aidan told her. Again, someone called his name. He waved them away. “So I say again… What can I do?”

He’d already done it—given her an ear…and a good drink. “I’m all right,” Rachel told him. “But thank you.”

Aidan gave her another long, slow look then he answered the calls from the other end of the bar.

Rachel finished her drink. Left a hefty tip, then slid back out through the crowd.

She stayed close to the shadows as she made her way to her apartment. Her steps were slow, and tiredness pulled at her. She knew that Mercer had sent a guard to keep an eye on her place. That would just be standard EOD protocol after the blast. Whether she was an agent or not, Mercer would watch after her.