“Why is that?” he asked.
She opened the book and flipped through the pages, finding the one she wanted. She turned it for him to see.
She’d drawn him in an apartment, not the log cabin he’d been staying in. Harlon had his hands on his head as men pointed guns his direction. “Is this supposed to be me.”
She tsked and pointed to the scar. “Of course, and it seems someone doesn’t like you.”
“I can see that,” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to know the reason why, would you?” he asked.
She spun it around and stared down at the sketch before hugging it once again it to her chest. “No, but I know it’s you. You have the mark from the cat.” Her gaze lifted to his scar.
Harlon took out his wallet, unfolded a picture that showed a family sitting around a Christmas tree, and handed it to her.
Her soft touch grazed his hand for only a mere second, but Manny’s voice boomed in his head and that moment started playing out as if caught on film like a movie in his thoughts. The sound was garbled, not enough to make out Manny’s words, but it was enough to spur his interest.
She let go of the picture and gasped as she lifted her gaze, swallowing hard. “What was that?”
“Your vision and my voice,” he answered as best he could and held her gaze. “Can we take this inside now, so I can explain?”
“Coffee, nothing more?” she asked before opening the door.
“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He winked, unable to stop himself from flirting with her.
Harlon couldn’t help it. He enjoyed making her blush, knowing that a single word or move on his part could stir her up inside and out. Even knowing he shouldn’t. Even knowing what it could cost him if she said no. He couldn’t help that he wanted to see her blush again.
