“Thanks, brat,” Sam said with that increasingly familiar edge of sarcasm. “Don’t do me any favors.”
“Actually, I believe I owe you one,” she said with syrupy sweetness.
He started to reply, but bit off whatever he’d been about to say.
It was just as well. Penny would have hated to pick up the threads of an ancient squabble in front of the two fascinated policemen. She found their obvious respect for Sam, which all the teasing couldn’t hide, something of a mystery. She couldn’t even figure out how he’d managed to get on the force.
Stories of Sam Roberts’s narrow escapes from the law were the stuff of family legend. Her grandfather had tried to regale her with several of them once again just before she’d left L.A., but she’d cut him off. At sixteen, when his sister had married into the Halloran family, Sammy had appeared destined for the life of a con artist at best. Naturally, her grandfather took full credit for his redemption.
But Penny had never gotten the sense that his salvation had been complete enough to land him on the Boston police force. She wondered what the whole story was behind that. She also wondered why no one in California had happened to mention it, then admitted that quite possibly it was because she tended to exit the room whenever his name came up.
Penny glanced over, noted the tension in Sam’s stance and the irritation in his expression and wondered if she’d ever get the chance to find out. She told herself it didn’t really matter. Sam Roberts clearly wasn’t the kind of man who’d be interested in being a pal to some distant relation. He’d made that more than clear years ago. In fact, he looked like the sort of man who viewed women as having one single purpose in life and it sure as heck wasn’t friendship.
Of course, that raised the question of why he’d bothered to show up here tonight in the first place. She figured she had her grandfather to thank for that. She wondered what he’d held over Sam’s head to get him to agree this time.
Sam’s temper had finally cooled sufficiently enough that he could look at Penny Hayden without wanting to murder her. He’d pretty well trampled any little flare-ups of guilt, as well, and was beginning to enjoy watching her trying to extricate herself from any share of the blame for the false alarm.
If she weren’t such an obvious pain in the neck, she might be attractive, he thought, idly studying her smooth-as-silk complexion and the dusting of freckles on her turned-up nose.
The kid had gone and grown up on him. She was wearing jeans that fit like a second skin, a denim shirt she’d tied in a knot at her tiny waist and those cowboy boots that she’d used somewhat effectively as weapons. She’d scooped her hair into a ponytail, though most of it had fallen free during their tussle. Sam had the oddest desire to free the rest of it and let it tumble through his fingers. He nixed that notion right away. He had no difficulty whatsoever recognizing trouble and until today he’d gotten fairly adept at sidestepping it. It was a skill he liked to think had come with maturity.
He deliberately forced his glance away and caught Ryan studying him speculatively. “What’s your problem?” he growled.
The younger cop grinned. “I’m not the one who came within a hairbreadth of being hauled in for breaking and entering and assault.”
“Oh, go catch some criminals.”
“Thought we had,” Jake reminded him. “Might even write up a lengthy report on it.”
“You do and you’ll be hoofing it around the lousiest beat in town come the first blizzard of winter,” Sam warned.
“Come on, Jake,” Ryan urged, still grinning. “You know what Sam’s like when he gets testy. Can’t take a joke.”
Sam briefly considered pounding their heads together, then decided the subsequent aggravation of explaining why to the heirarchy at headquarters wouldn’t be worth it. Fortunately, they seemed ready to beat a hasty retreat.
“Now don’t you two go squabbling the minute our backs are turned,” Ryan warned cheerfully as he closed the door.
Sam glared after them. As soon as their footsteps faded, Penny whirled on him.
“How could you humiliate me like that?” she demanded.
He regarded her incredulously, remembering with absolute clarity exactly how irritating she could be…and how turned on that tended to make him. Dammit, she could still do it.
“Excuse me?” he said. “If there was any humiliating done around here tonight, it was watching two men I work with come after me with their weapons drawn.”
“Served you right. You had no business standing in that hall and scaring me half to death.”
He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge the truth in the accusation. “You really are obnoxious.”
“Now that’s a mature response,” she countered. “How can you call me that? It’s been years since you even set eyes on me.”
“Not nearly long enough,” he shot back.
Their gazes clashed, hers every bit as fiery as he knew his must be. He’d stared down hardened criminals more easily. She never even flinched. A little frisson of admiration cut through his irritation. He sighed and let the last of his anger fade away.
“So, Penny Hayden, welcome to Boston.”
She didn’t seem to be quite so willing to let bygones be bygones. “If you’re the kind of welcoming committee this town sends out, I’m surprised anyone ever moves here.”
“They usually reserve me for the people they expect might be troublesome. I’d say we’re right on track this time.”
She rolled her eyes in obvious disgust. “Why are you here, really?”
“At the risk of stirring up a hornet’s nest, I’ll tell you the God’s honest truth.”
“A pleasant change,” she noted.
Sam shook his head. The woman was constantly spoiling for a fight. At least that was something they had in common. He held on to his patience by a thread. “Granddad Brandon called, said you were just settling in. He wanted me to stop by and see if there was anything I could do to help.”
“Was this your idea of help?” she asked. “Couldn’t you have called first, warned me you were on your way?”
He shrugged. “Hey, you attacked me in that hallway. If you hadn’t, I’d have introduced myself politely, just in case you’d forgotten what I looked like, then offered to do anything I could to show you around Boston.”
Eyes that were clear and guileless studied him intently. “But you wouldn’t have meant it, would you?” she said finally. “Just like last time.”
Sam tried to ignore the guilt that cut through him. “Why wouldn’t I be happy to show you around?”
“It’s a good thing you’re on the side of the law,” she informed him drily. “You’re a genuinely crummy liar. Remember, I was there the night you dutifully dragged me to a movie. And I know how Granddad can be. It’s easier to give in than it is to try to wriggle off his hook. Well, consider your duty done, Sam. I can look out for myself.”
To emphasize that she meant what she said, Penny opened the door and waited for him to walk through it. Sam saw no reason not to comply, until he was on the other side, his foot on the top step. Then he realized that he recognized the expression he’d read in her eyes. Not so many years ago, before the Hallorans had come into his life, he’d seen loneliness—and the stubborn determination not to let it show—just by looking in the mirror.
Knowing he was going to regret it, he turned back. “Look, as long as I’m here, why don’t we go grab something to eat?”
It wasn’t the most