He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not by Lena Diaz Page B

the sink,” she said in answer to his unspoken question.
    He rinsed out the bottle, then opened the cabinet and tossed the bottle in the blue recycle bin. When he straightened, he looked around as if in indecision. Then his gaze met hers and he sighed. “Not that one beer is going to make someone my size impaired, but I’d rather not hit the road right after drinking one. I could spend a few minutes checking your home security if you want. It would make me feel better about you not being under police protection.”
    He didn’t look like he wanted to stay another minute in her house. As soon as he’d mentioned leaving his loved ones in New York he looked miserable. So why had he offered to check her security system? “I’ve got protection outside in an unmarked car,” she reminded him.
    “It would be better if someone stayed with you inside the house.”
    His words filled her mind with images of Logan staying in her house, watching over her, protecting her . . . sleeping on her couch. She forced the images away. He wasn’t offering to stay and protect her and she wouldn’t let him even if he did. She wasn’t willing to give up her privacy and she hadn’t decided yet if she was really staying in town, now that the killer was back.
    Part of her wanted to pack her things and get on the next plane to anywhere but here. But another part of her was just as determined not to let the killer chase her away again. She’d worked so hard to rebuild her life. She didn’t want to start over. “I don’t want someone staying in my house with me.”
    “What about work?” he asked. “My men said you didn’t go to work today, but when you do, you’ll need protection.”
    She smiled. “No one is going to attack me at work.”
    He raised a brow. “You seem confident about that.”
    “All I have to do to get to work is walk from my bedroom to the living room. I’m a computer programmer. I work remotely from home.”
    “Well, I guess you put me in my place.” He softened his words with a smile, the first real smile he’d given her since he’d called her a smart ass.
    For a moment, she was frozen by the approving look in his eyes, the way his gentle smile transformed his face and made him look like a charming rogue instead of the intimidating police chief.
    The silence stretched out. Time to send him on his way. He didn’t want to be here anymore than she wanted him here.
    “So, how about it? Want me to check your doors and windows?” he asked.
    No . “Okay.” Damn. Why had she said that?
    He nodded. “I’ll start in the living room. I remember seeing a set of sliding glass doors in there. If they aren’t properly secured, someone could easily pop one of them off the track and walk right in.”
    “I doubt that.” She led the way into the living room. “I replaced the doors when I moved in. The company that installed my alarm recommended it.”
    She watched him check out the security bar and the locks, and examine the alarm sensors, all the time wondering why he seemed so edgy.
    “You’ve got hurricane glass, and you can’t take one of these doors off the track from the outside, at least not easily,” he said. “Good locks. I’m impressed.”
    “You seem surprised.”
    “I shouldn’t be, given your past. You obviously take your safety seriously. Most people don’t.”
    Crossing to one of the windows that framed the fireplace, he checked those locks as well, then glanced at her computer before moving to the second window. “I’ve never met someone who worked from home. Is it a nine-to-five type of job?”
    He finished examining the locks and security sensors, so she led him down the hallway to the first spare bedroom, a room she used mostly for storage. “My schedule is flexible. I work for a consulting company and I choose which contracts I want to take on. I just finished a six-month stint. I haven’t decided yet when I’ll take on the next contract.”
    He dusted off his hands after checking