I Can See You Read Online Free Page A

where
Eve was shaking a martini, her gaze constantly roving the bar. “On any subject,” he added, accusingly.
    “I will,” Noah said and Brock shook his head in
disgust.
    “That’s what you always say. You gotta fish or cut
bait, man. This has gone on long enough. You’re playing with fire, every damn
time you walk into this bar.”
    It was true. “I know.” Still he shrugged. “When I
close this case.”
    Brock’s jaw hardened. “That’s what you always say.”
    That was true, too. Noah always promised that this
time would be the last he’d walk into Sal’s, but he always came back. He’d
spent ten years battling one addiction, only to find another. Eve Wilson was
his weakness, dangerous in more ways than one.
    “I know,” Noah repeated, reaching for the four packets
of sugar he took in his coffee.
    Brock pushed the sugar container away. “I’d taste it
first if I were you.”
    Noah did and drew a quiet breath. Eve had added it
already. He’d ordered coffee maybe twice in the last year, and had added his
own sugar each time. She’d not only watched, she’d remembered. The look on
Brock’s face said he knew it, too.
    “She’s a good bartender,” Noah said. “I bet she
remembers what you always order.”
    Brock rolled his eyes. “You’re a goddamn fool, Noah.”
    Noah sighed. “Yeah, I know that, too. Tell Trina
thanks for dinner. I have to go.”
    Jack had just left, Katie clinging to his arm. He’d said
he’d go home and change, then join Noah at the scene where they’d focus their
full attention on finding out who’d killed Martha Brisbane. They’d do their
jobs. For Noah, the job was all. When he’d hit rock bottom, the job was what
led him out. He’d do well to remember that.
    But Noah felt Eve’s steady gaze as he made his way
toward the door and he stopped. He wouldn’t be coming back. Wouldn’t see her
again. He hadn’t come within fifteen feet of the bar in six months, Jack eager
to get their orders once Eve’s scar disappeared, shallow jerk that he was. And
you? What are you? He’d sat there, and watched.
    I’m a fool. Deliberately, he turned to the bar. Her eyes were quiet as he approached, but
he could see the pulse hammering in the hollow of her throat beneath the choker
she wore, and knew he hadn’t been wrong about that flash of hunger he’d seen
before. He lifted the cup, a million things he wanted to say stampeding through
his mind. In the end, he said the only thing that he could say. The only thing
that made any sense.
    “Thank you.”
    She nodded once, swallowed hard. “It’s just a cup of
coffee, Detective.”
    But it was more. It was kindness, one more in a string
of many he’d witnessed over the months, most when she thought no one was
watching. But he’d seen.
    Turn around and go. But he didn’t say anything, nor did he go, his eyes dropping to her
hands. Her left cradled the right. A jagged scar wrapped around her thumb and
disappeared up the sleeve of a black sweater that matched her short hair and
dipped just low enough to be considered modest, yet still make a man look
twice. And wish.
    Calmly she splayed her hands flat on the bar as if to
say, “Nothing to see here, please move along.” But for a brief moment her eyes
flickered, and he glimpsed a yearning so profound it stole his breath. As
quickly as it had come, it was controlled, gone, and she was back to guardedly
serene. “Stay safe, Detective,” she said quietly.
    He touched the brim of his hat. “Take care.” And
good-bye .
    Noah gulped a mouthful of the scalding coffee as he
walked to his car, the sweet liquid sour on his tongue. Fish or cut bait .
It would be the second one. As long as he’d clung to the belief that he was
only hurting himself, he could go to the bar, just to see her. But tonight
she’d nibbled, just a light tug on the line, but a tug nonetheless.
    He’d reel in his line before he hooked her. And
hurt her . Whatever she’d been through, it had been bad. I