Elizabeth turned pale. Her hands were clenched together so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. Tucker reached over and gave them a reassuring squeeze. He withdrew hurriedly, because the jolt of awareness that shot through him had little to do with comfort and a whole lot to do with attraction.
“Just smile and leave the rest to me,” he said, then lowered his voice, “And remember, if he gets really contrary, I still have my gun with me.”
She laughed at that, just the way he’d hoped she would. By the time King reached the table, she’d squared her shoulders and faced him with a smile that only someone who knew her well would recognize as forced.
“King, it’s lovely to see you again,” she said.
Tucker noted his father’s startled reaction and waited to see what he’d do next. King wasn’t constitutionally capable of being outright rude to a woman’s face.
“Mary Elizabeth,” he finally acknowledged with a curt nod.
Satisfied that for the moment his father would remain on good behavior, Tucker gestured toward a chair. “Have a seat and join us. Bobby says the halibut is especially fine tonight.”
“I didn’t come here to have dinner,” King grumbled, but he sat just the same.
“No, I imagine you came here to tell me what a mistake I’m making,” Tucker said, getting the issue out on the table.
King seemed surprised that Tucker had grasped that. “As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I intended to say.” He frowned at Mary Elizabeth. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she said, her lips twitching with amusement. “And I can understand why you might not want Tucker mixed up in my husband’s murder investigation.”
“The investigation’s not what has me worried,” he said pointedly. “It’s this.” His gesture encompassed the two of them. “You two, out here in public when her husband hasn’t even been buried yet.”
“We’re having dinner in a public place,” Tucker pointed out. “Not dining all alone by candlelight at my house. You think that would be better?”
“No, dammit. I don’t think you should be dining together at all. In fact, I think you should be steering completely clear of each other. Otherwise, a tragic situation is likely to turn ugly with speculation and innuendos running rampant around town.”
“I’m sure you’ll set people straight, won’t you, King?” Mary Elizabeth said, her gaze steady. “After all, who knows the two of us better than you do, and you certainly don’t think there’s any hanky-panky involved, do you?”
“Of course not,” he blustered. “My son’s not a fool.”
“Well, then, you should be able to shoot down all that nasty speculation, shouldn’t you?” she challenged.
“Of course I can.”
She beamed at him. “We’ll be counting on that.”
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