Carolina Man (30 page)

For some reason—for no reason at all—he thought of that writer, Lauren Somebody, in the bakery this morning.
I think she should go with whatever makes people feel good
.

A dangerous philosophy. It used to make him feel good to get drunk and hit things. No more. These days he restricted himself to one beer and the heavy bag in the back room of the station house.

Her face slid into his memory, the wide, soft mouth, the gleaming, intelligent eyes, the tiny scar that pierced her left eyebrow.

After almost eleven months, he knew most of the residents on the island. Lauren No Last Name was no more from around here than he was. Still, she looked familiar. Something about the shape of those eyes or the tilt of her jaw. His body tightened. She interested him, and not just as a member of law enforcement keeping tabs on his beat.

He shook his head, disgusted with the direction of his thoughts. His dick obviously hadn’t learned the lessons of the past year.

He didn’t do interesting women anymore.