Convicted (Entangled Ignite) by Dee Tenorio

when he looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the face he saw. So, all he did was doze until Rick came back.
    And dream about the woman with the mole under her eye.

Chapter Four
    “I found out what the C stands for.”
    Cade resisted opening his eyes beneath the shade of the hat. It was cool and dark under there. With the tree’s heavy foliage, it felt damn near night. He intended to keep it that way, even if that slightly teasing voice beyond it offered an unexpected temptation.
    “ Cade. ”
    He’d never heard his name said as if it had a flavor. His eyes opened without his permission. She made it sound like it tasted good to her.
    There was a fast rush of air, then the unmistakable sound of her sitting. Damn it.
    “Since I hate not knowing things, especially after yesterday, so I did some googling at the bar last night and found you in a news story from a few years back. Awarded a silver star—”
    “My name isn’t a secret.” He ground the words out, far preferring her on that topic than the one she was starting.
    She blinked a few times, but thankfully let it go. “I like it. Unusual, but masculine. It’s got manly stamped all over it, don’t you think? Is it a family name?” More rustling, what sounded like…paper bags. “I brought lunch with me, since I noticed you never have one. Want some?”
    The unmistakable aroma of a hamburger and fries hit his nose, even with the hat.
    He pulled it off his face, somehow more irritated that she’d brought something so fragrant with her. He had to be scowling, he knew he was, but she just turned her head and smiled. How he knew for sure, he couldn’t say since her mouth was blocked by what had to be the biggest burger he’d ever seen, lettuce dripping from the loosely wrapped bottom. Probably because of her eyes, the deep blue lighting up as if she was pleased she’d irritated him.
    “What the hell are you doing here?”
    He had to give her a moment to chew, her cheek bulging with the bite she’d just taken. Three, four times, her jaw worked while she held up a patient finger with one hand and shuffled her food until she could grab her massive soda cup and bring the straw to her lips. A few deep draws and she was finally able to swallow. Well, after she cleared her throat a little. “I was hungry.”
    As if that was a reason.
    For the next ten minutes, he watched her power through the sandwich, a greasy bag of steak fries, and enough soda that the straw made obnoxious noises until she put it down with a frown. Then she balled up her paper wrappers and stuffed her trash into the bag she’d kept between her denim-covered knees. That was when he realized she was sitting on a towel.
    It was also when she got up.
    Before he could ask where she thought she was going, she’d waved, thanked him for the company, and trotted off. And he actually watched her go. Confused, he forced himself to lie back down, but he couldn’t regain the blessed silence he’d had before.
    “Damn woman,” he grumbled, pushing his hat down until it felt like he was trying to suffocate himself. It didn’t help.
    Worse, he was hungry.
    …
    Her next visit a few days later wasn’t as much of a surprise, but it didn’t exactly clear up his confusion. “You did what? ”
    “He speaks!” She was already sitting on her towel, about a yard away from him, opening her bags of fast food. “I said I talked to Rosalie about you.”
    “Who the hell is Rosalie?”
    “Wilson.” If she was waiting for recognition, she figured out quick it wasn’t coming. “The receptionist in the sheriff’s office. Little redhead, smiles a lot?”
    He glowered.
    She cared. Deeply. He could tell, because she shrugged without any sense of self-preservation and went back to her food. Tacos this time. “Rosalie says you never bring food to work with you. In fact, she’s never once seen you open the office fridge. Which is nice for her, because she never has to remind you to take your plastics home on