April realized she was flirting, but since it was just for tonight, she could see no harm in it. She supposed her ego could use the temporary high. “And just what kind of signals have to go off before you realize you’re not wanted?”
“That’s easy,” he told her. “The lady says go and means it.”
Right, and if she believed that, there was an ice bridge he wanted to sell her. “So if I said go, you would?”
He grinned. “You’re forgetting the key part—‘and means it,”’ he repeated.
He had a loophole. She figured as much. “And that’s up to you to decide, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “You’re getting the hang of it now.”
The record ceased play, taking the music with it. He was loathe to give her up just yet. He had a feeling that if he continued dancing, she’d follow. For the moment she didn’t look as if she realized that the jukebox had stopped playing. But her cheeks were flushed and while he’d like to think he had something to do with that, it was probably the close quarters they were in. “Would you like to get some air?”
They weren’t that far from the door. Without seeming to move, they’d somehow managed to dance their way to the saloon entrance.
“Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” She nodded toward the doorway. “I’ll just step out for a minute.”
When he followed her, she raised a quizzical brow. “Can’t let a lady go out alone at night.”
Part of the reason she wanted to step outside was to get away from him and that rock-hard body of his. “You can if the lady insists.”
With that, she slipped outside and closed the door behind her.
Chapter Four
The temperature change registered immediately as the night air briskly embraced April, cooling her skin. The temporary heat of the afternoon had gone as if it had never existed, a cold snap settling in. She’d forgotten how cold it could be in Hades despite the calendar.
Running her hands up and down her arms, April looked up at the sky. The stars were out in full regalia, framing a moon that was full and bright. Less than a handful of streetlights dotted the area, their illumination paling in comparison to the moon’s.
The last time she’d stood here like this, there hadn’t been anything but darkness. This was progress, she supposed. As everything else in Hades, it came slowly.
When she felt a hand gently settle on her shoulder, April jumped and swung around. Her breathing steadied slightly as her eyes looked up at Jimmy’s face, still flush from the warmth within the saloon.
The man obviously couldn’t take no for an answer.
Her eyes asked him what he was doing out here after she’d said she wanted to be left alone.
“Like she means it,” he repeated, echoing his sentiment from only moments earlier.
It took her a second to remember. And then she frowned. “I meant it. What, I didn’t sound convincing enough to you?”
In deference to the chill, he buttoned the top two buttons of his workshirt. “Not to my ears.” Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Must have been all that noise inside,” he told her innocently. He saw that wasn’t going down so well. “Where I come from, it’s not polite to tell the guest of honor to get lost.”
She laughed to herself, thinking of the crowd inside the Salty. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re more of the excuse of honor than the guest of honor.”
He shrugged, unfazed. “As long as it involves honor, I’m all right with it.”
“Oh, and honor means a lot to you, does it?”
The grin abated just a little, his manner growing ever so slightly serious. “It has its place in my life.”
Suddenly his serious mood was gone. Jimmy hunched his shoulders against the wind, wondering if he’d seem like a hopeless tenderfoot if he opted to go inside for the jacket he’d left slung over the back of his chair. April seemed to be faring well in just a simple blouse. A simple blouse that was hugging curves guaranteed to make a man’s mouth water. The button just at her chest level strained against its hole every time she took a breath. He tried to not stare. His fingers itched to help coax the separation.
Shoving his hands into his pockets only partially for warmth, he looked up at the moon. “So, what does a person do around Hades for excitement?”
“Leave.”
He looked at her. “Seriously.”
April inclined her head. “Seriously.”
Jimmy couldn’t tell if she was deadpanning or not. “My sister seems pretty content.”
April had made her own judgment about nurse Alison LeBlanc and found herself liking the woman, although they had little in common. “Your sister belongs to that amazing fraternal club of people who give of themselves and feel that they actually have a calling in life to tend to the sick and the needy.”
Alison had always been a caretaker, even though she was the youngest. And there was no denying that her heart was in the right place. But Jimmy had a little bit of trouble with April’s assessment of the townspeople. He nodded toward the closed door behind them. “That didn’t strike me as a needy bunch in there.”
April’s mouth twitched. “You should see them around closing time.” And then the would-be smile faded. “Actually, I meant ‘needy’ as in needing. My sister June decided to remain in Hades after she graduated. She could have had her pick of careers, but she opened up a car repair shop of all things. Said the place needed one and since she’d always been so handy when it came to fixing things, it was a good match.” Her frown indicated what she thought of that idea. “When he was growing up, my brother Max dreamed about joining the FBI. Now he’s content to be the only law around here.” She shook her head, his decision mystifying her. “Not that there’s any crime in Hades in the conventional sense of the word.”
Her wording intrigued him. “What’s unconventional crime?”
“When Victor, one of the Inuits, kept springing Simon Gallagher’s traps so he couldn’t catch any beaver.” She couldn’t help feeling that her brother was wasting his life here, but it was his to waste she supposed. “Max certainly can’t keep busy handing out speeding tickets and the last murder here was—” She stopped to think and realized that if there had been a murder in Hades, she certainly had no knowledge of it. “I don’t know when.”
Jimmy smiled at the scenario she was unconsciously painting for him. He and his family hailed from Seattle where crime was an everyday event. He could think of several people who would more than welcome life in Hades.
He looked at her. “Sounds like a nice place, actually.”
“Bland,” April corrected firmly. “It sounds bland.”
There was nothing bland about facing the hardships he was sure this place afforded. That took courage and fortitude. But he saw no point in getting into a discussion over it with her. So he humored her instead. “And you crave excitement.”
She looked out over the terrain, asleep except for the party in the building behind them. There wasn’t much to see and what there was of it was dark. Even the theater was closed. Since everyone in town was at the Salty, there had been no reason to keep the theater open tonight. She could remember all those years, aching to get as far away from Hades as possible.
“What I crave,” she told him, “is something with a pulse.”
The