A Twist of Betrayal by Allie Harrison

anything, it was that closeness could only rip you apart. He didn’t need it.
    She must have known he wasn’t joking, that his vulnerability really bothered him. “We can talk about something else,” she said. “Do you have family?”
    “Yes,” he replied and suddenly found himself telling her a comical story of his childhood before he could stop to think.
    “My younger brother, Dillon, always wanted to be a pilot when he grew up, and I once made wings out of cardboard and the feathers out of our mother’s feather pillows,” he explained.
    “Oh, no,” she grinned. Her eyes sparkled. Dan got lost in them.
    “Oh, yes,” he replied.
    “What happened?” she asked.
    And Dan couldn’t have stopped himself from telling her if his life depended on it. “Well, I was older and more knowledgeable at the ripe age of eight and chickened out when it came to jumping off the roof of the garage.”
    “But?” she quipped. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
    He laughed at her choice of words. “But,” he emphasized, “Dillon, being only two years younger, was faster. I wasn’t able to stop him from jumping.”
    “Oh, my gosh!” She had her elbows on the table, her chin and cheeks in both hands as she held on to his every word. “What happened?”
    “Both of Dillon’s wings were replaced by plaster.”
    “How awful.”
    “What was awful was that all Dillon worried about was what he needed to change on his wings to make them fly next time.”
    Dan had no idea why that crazy story popped into his mind. He hadn’t thought of that incident in years, but Justine laughed at it. At one point during the story, Dan reached across the small table and took her hand. He didn’t even remember when.
    She was warm and soft. Dan considered another long swallow of ice water, but knew it would do little good. If he wanted to cool the heat her hand sent into him, he would have to dump the glass of ice water down the front of his shirt, or better yet, down the front of his pants. Besides, he didn’t want to move. He told himself he was allowed to feel her heat, to even welcome it. It didn’t mean he had to get close to her. It didn’t mean he had to give anything of himself away.
    The waiter took their finished plates and offered dessert. They both refused but asked for coffee.
    “So is Dillon a pilot now?” she asked.
    “For a major airline,” he replied. “I think he flies around the world every week or so.”
    “What about your parents?” she asked.
    “They died when I was a freshman in high school. Dillon and I lived with an aunt and uncle until I turned eighteen.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    He shrugged off her apology.
    “So what made you want to be a cop?” she asked.
    He shrugged lightly again. “Oh, I wasn’t always a law-abiding citizen growing up. I guess I felt the need to redeem my sins.”
    She offered him a small smile. “And do you?”
    Dan was quiet for a long time, lost in the dark fire of her eyes. “I guess I do. I try. Little by little. Take you for example,” he explained. “I stopped you from speeding. I suppose I’ll never know for certain, but I might have saved you from hitting something or perhaps a carload full of kids.”
    “I see,” she said.
    “And I guess I do help put the bad guys where they belong as long as you public defenders don’t come along and get them off,” he teased.
    “That was a low blow,” she reminded him, but her eyes sparkled more.
    “I’m only teasing.”
    The waiter chose that moment to bring their coffee. And Dan reluctantly let go of her hand. She tore her gaze from his to stir her coffee.
    He helped her with her coat later. “Let me walk you to your car.”
    “You don’t have to, really,” she argued. “I’ll be perfectly safe. It’s too cold to get mugged. Besides things like that don’t happen here.”
    “Just the same, I’d feel better since things like that can happen anywhere,” Dan said. “And if I’d picked you up instead of meeting you