Free Secrets of the Lynx by Aimée Thurlo

these days?”
    She shook her head. “He spends most of his time overseas, and a Christmas phone call is enough.” Realizing she’d said too much, she suddenly grew silent. Paul was way too easy to talk to; she’d have to watch that from now on.
    “It’s been a while since breakfast,” he said, stepping across to the fridge. “Hungry?”
    “A bit, yeah.”
    “I have some frozen TV dinners. Take your pick—Mexican or Asian.”
    “Mexican.”
    “I’ll nuke yours in the microwave while you go change clothes. Help yourself to whatever’s in the closet. The shelves on the right hand side have my pullover sweaters.”
    “And the bedroom is...?”
    “End of the hall—on the left.”
    As she walked to the back of the apartment, she found herself wishing she could have met Paul under different circumstances. Another time, another place, they may have become good friends...or more.
    Kendra stepped inside Paul’s bedroom and looked around. It was orderly but sparse—good thing, too, because it was tiny. The closet, with its two narrow sliding doors, was nearly empty—as opposed to hers, which was crammed full. She looked at the shelves fitted into the sides and saw the sweaters he’d mentioned.
    She selected the top one, a blue wool crewneck, and slipped it over her blouse. It was warm and comfortable.
    Kendra then chose a pair of jeans he’d draped over a hanger. Like most men, Paul had slim hips. The pants fit snugly on her, but they weren’t uncomfortable. She rolled up the legs, creating cuffs, then looked at herself in the mirror attached to the closet door on the left.
    She looked more like Paul’s girlfriend than a cop now. For a moment, the very fact that she was wearing his clothes made her feel wonderfully wicked. It was like a warm, naked hug from the big man in the next room.
    She smiled wistfully. Maybe someday she’d find a guy like Paul who could spark all her senses with just a glance. With luck, he’d also turn out to be a man who wanted the same things she did—a home and kids.
    She shook free of the thought. She’d settle for a dinner date where nobody came packing a gun.
    When she walked back to the front room Paul gave her a slow onceover. Although she was sure that it was a well-practiced gesture, it had the intended effect. The thoroughness of that look left her tingling all over.
    Needing to focus on something safer, she pointed to the tea brewing in a cup on the counter. “Smells good. What kind of tea is that?”
    “It’s a special medicinal blend. Hosteen Silver taught us to fix it whenever...we needed it.”
    “That’s the real reason you wanted to come here.”
    He shook his head. “It was part of the reason, but not the only one,” he said.
    “Are you in pain?” she asked bluntly.
    “When the wind and cold pick up, my shoulder aches. Tsinyaachéch’il makes it stop.”
    “Didn’t your doctor ever give you something you could take for that?”
    “Sure, but painkillers put me in a haze, and I need to stay alert. Aspirin helps, but only in large doses. This tea works better all the way around.”
    “What is it exactly?”
    “The main ingredient is an herb known as Oregon grape. It grows in the high country.” As he stretched his arm and reached into the back of the freezer for the TV dinners, she saw him flinch. He did it again as he placed the dinners in the microwave.
    “Are you sure you’re up to this search for Annie tonight? I could get your brother to assign me an undercover officer.”
    “In another twenty minutes, give or take, my shoulder will be back to normal. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
    She looked at the pouch that contained the tea. “Does Oregon grape taste as good as it smells?”
    “Not by itself. The scent you’re picking up includes some other herbs Hosteen Silver taught us to add to the mixture to make the tea more palatable.”
    “So what else is in there?”
    He shook his head. “Knowledge like this isn’t shared outside family. It