Sera was having a hell of a time concentrating. It was almost better when she and Dylan were fighting. But this morning, he was nice. Nice was worse. This whole truce thing was weirding her out.

"Earth to Sera."

She blinked up in surprise to meet Jason's expectant smile. "Sorry, I'm distracted this morning. What did you say?"

"You okay? I asked if you think we'll have the numbers or if you want to go with a smaller venue and scale back."

Sera looked up from the pile of modeling bios. They were rapidly careening toward the Go Girl event and they were both starting to think they'd bitten off more than they could chew. But she didn't know how to say quit, so they'd have to make it happen. There wasn't really any other choice. "We'll be fine. So far we have seven models. One of them was pretty well known before she retired." She sat back. "But I don't know, I wanted more than just models who talk about the secret to their beauty being how much water they drink."

Jason sputtered and laughed. "Hey, models are people too."

"Yes, just taller and prettier than the rest of us."

He met her gaze levelly, and his voice dropped an octave. "Well, not all of us."

Sera shifted in her seat. There it was again. That underlying current. Every time they worked together she felt it. Sure, he was flirtatious, but maybe Dylan was right and Jason was interested. She pursed her lips at that thought. The last thing she needed was for Agent I Know Everything to be right about anything.

She ignored Jason and continued to work. If she didn't think about it, then it wasn't real, right? "I just wish we had more than models, you know?"

He rolled his eyes. "That's what I was saying. Not that I mind looking at pictures of supermodels, but we need a cool CEO or something."

Sera shook her head. "No, you're not getting it. We need someone young and cool and hip; like a singer or fashion designer or something. It needs to be something that appeals to these girls. A CEO is going to put them to sleep."

"Okay, if you're not into my idea then let’s hear one of your own."

Sera leaned forward and clasped her hands together as she racked her brain. There had to be something, someone… "Fine, I hear you. We want someone smart, but engaging. These models can talk about self-esteem, but I want someone with a little more substance."

"Just not too much substance."

She laughed. "Not exactly, but sort of." She pulled up one of the portfolio folders. "So, for example, Kayla Ward. She's perfect because she was a fashion model and then decided to become a photographer. She wanted to look like a real woman and not an underfed giraffe."

Jason shook his head. "I don't want anything to do with real women, give me a model any day."

"You're such a guy."

"What, you need confirmation?" He winked at her. Again she ignored it.

"Here's what I envisioned. Doing something like a mock fashion show. Up on the screens all around the venue, we'll have images and videos of these models walking the catwalks around the world in full war paint."

"Okay, I'm with you."

Her heartbeat ticked up as her brain whirred and the idea started to solidify. "Then, as the screen changes, we’ll play a voice over of the woman talking about her life, ambition, goals, insecurities, all while she walks the runway."

"So a live component and multimedia component?"

Sera nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. But on our version of the catwalk, the models will be stripped down to bare necessity makeup, just enough so they don't look washed out. But it will be our version of real beauty. Kind of like the line from the song, “I Woke Up Like This.” They'll all be dressed the same, like in jeans and white t-shirt. These women will show that they have flaws and they're not perfect either. Ooh ooh!" She clapped excitedly. "And then we have them each speak to the girls, relaying a story about when they were young and felt insecure. Really going for the you-are-not-alone vibe."

If only someone had shown her that she didn't have to be perfect, then things wouldn't have been so difficult after Malcolm's death. She wouldn't have spiraled out of control.

"That's actually pretty genius. Because we're showing that in a lot of ways it's smoke and mirrors. You know, since we're so short on time it'll probably be a good idea to pull in a weekend work session or two for planning."

"You're probably right. How's Saturday? Or do you have plans?"

Jason shook his head. "No, I'm good."

"Cool. Now all we have to do is find more women." As they worked together, Sera's excitement built. They might just pull this off.

* * *

Dealing with Sera was a hell of a lot easier on a full night's sleep. Too bad he didn't know anything about that. Every time he closed his eyes he heard buzzing. Lust-drunk or not, he had a job to do and it would be easier if he wasn't busy wondering if she smelled like honeysuckle every damn where.

Forcing his focus back on the files in front of him he pulled every known picture of the Cochran boys. He was hoping he'd get a hit on that tattoo he'd seen. As his phone rang he scowled when he saw the display. Derek. Chances were if his brother was calling in the middle of the day, their father had spoken to him. Exactly the kind of shit he didn't need right now. But still, it was his brother.

It didn't matter what was going on. When one of his siblings called, he answered. "Hey, D3. Listen man, I'm sort of in the middle of so—"

But Derek wasn't in the patient kind of mood. "What the fuck, Dylan? Were you going to tell me?"

Awesome. "So I see you talked to Dad."

"Were you going to tell me you decided to find her?"

He forced a calm into his voice he didn't feel. "I was. But I figured I'd wait until I had something to tell you. No need getting all worked up over nothing. "

"That's not how this works, man. You're my fucking brother. You're supposed to tell me things like this."

He didn't like the feeling of guilt settling in his gut. "Look, I did what I thought was best. I would have told you when I had something solid. Right now all I know is we have a sister."

"So you're just going to look for her?"

Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need more information. I can't let it sit until I know more."

"Between you and Dad, I'm not sure who I'm more fucking pissed at. You can't go looking for her. If she's disappeared, then it's because she doesn't want to be found."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'll find out for sure."

Derek sighed. "You always do this. This unemotional rational approach doesn't affect just you now. I'm affected too. You need to snap out of cop mode and think like my fucking brother. Did you think how this would affect me?"

He really did not have time for this shit. "Of course I did. It's all I think about. What's best for everyone. What the angles are, who needs what. You think I go into any scenario without knowing what I'm looking at?"

"This isn't about the equation, Dylan. This is about the woman who abandoned us."

Dylan shook his head. "You're too emotional, Derek."

"And you're not emotional enough. You can't tell me you want to do this. That you want to open up that can of feelings."

"I'm not opening up a can of anything. I'm fine. I don't have any feelings about this right now. Ask me again if I find her."

There were two beats of silence. "Where the fuck is my brother? What happened to you? The Dylan I know would never open this can of fucked-up flesh-eating worms. The Dylan I know would have felt something. Not this emotionless void. The Dylan I know would have fucking told me."

Yeah, that guy died a year ago. "I'm doing the right thing. I'll find her then we can assess what to do after that."

"Can you even hear yourself right now?"

That was the problem. He could hear himself. And again, he sounded like an asshole, but he didn't have the emotional energy to deal with Derek's shit too. His brother had been so young when their mother left. Just six. But instead of thinking it was somehow his fault, he'd focused on making sure he was self-sufficient in case anyone else decided to leave too, like his father or brother. It wasn't until their dad married Sarah that he realized that when people cared about you they didn't leave.

As for Dylan, he'd just gone into caretaker mode. Their father was capable as hell, but Dylan had still stepped it up and tried to take care of the old man and his brother. When he'd inherited the new siblings, he'd shared the load with Delilah, but as the oldest boy, he'd taken on more than he had to. Now it was part of his makeup. Delilah's, too. Between the two of them, the wrangling of the younger siblings had been pretty easy. Both of them with oldest child syndrome. Delilah was a fixer and he…well, he'd found his own way to fix things.

"I hear myself. And I said I'd take care of it." The pressure behind his eyes intensified.

"When you find my brother, fucking tell him I'm looking for him."

He couldn't finish this conversation right now. "Look, I need to go, but I'll call you back."

"You know what, don't bother until you find where you misplaced the old you."

At that rate, he might never call his brother back. "I'll call you tonight." He hung up with his brother and dragged his eyes back to his monitor. Focus on the work. Not the pile of rotting emotions swirling around in his gut.

After another hour, something on the monitor flickered and he leaned forward.

The camera caught someone at the corner of the street. From that angle, he couldn't see clearly enough to identify any discernible features or identifying marks. Besides, the guy had on long sleeves, but he did hand an envelope to an elderly woman with a cane. They chatted for several minutes before he handed her the envelope, which was roughly the size of the one containing the letter. A few minutes later, she walked right into the federal building.

Suddenly fully alert, he changed up the footage to capture the lobby. The elderly woman walked straight to the mail exchange and dropped the envelope in it.

Gotcha. The camera above the mail slot caught the name. “Serafina Justice” in neat script.

Grabbing a still, he then inputted it into his facial recognition software. He wasn't sure he'd get a hit, but he'd let that program run. Then he called into the San Diego main office located in Sorrento Valley.

An old friend of his answered on the second ring. "This is Warner."

"Hey Mike, it's Dylan Donovan."

"Hey, man, I heard you were back in SoCal. What's happening brother?" He'd worked with Mike on a DEA task force last year in Los Angeles. "I'm good. I'm good. You?"

He wasn't particularly good at small talk. Lucky for him, Mike had him covered. "Excellent. You know, surfing when I get a minute and started seeing a new girl. I think this one might be the one, man. But you didn't call me to shoot the shit. We'll do that over a beer. What do you need?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'm looking for footage from security cams on the corner of Broadway and Fourth.” He gave Mike the details of the businesses in that area. "You think you can work your magic?"

"Sure thing. Since they’re so close to the federal building, we already have standing permission to access. I'm sending to you right now. Give me five."

"Thanks."

"What are you working on now?" Warner asked.

"You remember the Tommy Cochran thing from years ago?"

There was a beat of silence, then Mike whistled. "Yeah, I was in college then, I think. What? Cochran's brother’s taking over the mantle?"

"Maybe. I think I have a lead on something, but maybe it's nothing. We'll see once I can get a look at that surveillance."

"Damn. Well let me know if you need anything else." They hung up after making a plan for drinks and within minutes, Dylan had the footage from the Wells Fargo bank on the corner.

He zoomed in on the exchange with the older woman and could see her with a young man who approached her as she was getting out of a cab. She appeared to ask him something. From the looks of it, it was a friendly exchange.

Dylan tapped his foot impatiently. "Come on, come on." He just needed them a little closer. The guy helped the woman to the corner, but he had his back to the camera. It was when he looked at his watch, then up that Dylan caught the money shot.

Holy hell. The guy was the spitting image of Tommy Cochran. He hadn't been imagining it. More importantly, Sera hadn't been imagining it. He knew it wasn't Cochran. So who was it? And why was he trying to make Sera crazy?

He slammed his seat back and peered at the image. He pulled up a photo of Cochran from the day he went into prison. Down to the tattoos, the guy on the corner was the spitting image. The Cochran crew were plentiful, their parents being old-school Catholics. He had five brothers, to everyone's knowledge. The brothers all resembled each other, but had they missed a twin?

He needed to talk to the senator, right the fuck now. He grabbed his gun and his phone. Shoving the gun into his holster, he dialed the direct line for the senator. The assistant from last week answered. "Senator Justice's line, who may I say is calling?"

"This is Agent Donovan, I need the senator."

Her voice chilled by degrees. "I'm so sorry but the senator cannot be disturbed at the moment. You'll have to leave a message with me and a phone number so she can call you back."

Dylan's hands tightened on his phone. Dropping his voice he growled out, "This is urgent. About her daughter."

Marley cleared her throat. "I'll put you right through."

He tried to steady the sense of unease winding its way around his spine. Control. Find your God damn control, Donovan. He needed to be cool and calm for Sera. He needed to do his fucking job.

Senator Justice's voice was low, tight, concerned. "Agent Donovan, what's wrong with my daughter?"

"Nothing yet, ma'am, but I've got something. Is there any chance Tommy Cochran has a twin?"

There was a beat of silence on the line. "Not to my knowledge—why?"

"It seems your daughter was correct. She wasn't making it up. Someone who looks an awful lot like Tommy Cochran has been following her around San Diego."

"That's impossible."

"No, ma'am, it's not. The guy's slick, but I've got him on surveillance."

For the first time ever since meeting the senator, he heard a waver in her voice. "But that's impossible."

"I know what I'm looking at."

"Sh-she's not crazy."

"No ma'am."

“Then that means someone is trying to make her feel like she's crazy. This is deliberate."

"Yes ma'am. I suggest we tell your daughter what's happening. Then the next move is protective custody."

There was a long pause where he could only hear the senator's even breaths. "No. This might be enough to send her down another spiral. I want you to handle it and stop this from happening. Her mental well-being is all I care about right now."

"I think you underestimate your daughter. She hasn't had an episode since she was sixteen. The woman I'm dealing with is not emotionally fragile. If anything, she's strong. Mule-headed, knows her own mind, and has a backbone of steel."

"You think you know my daughter better than I do? I caution you, Agent Donovan. Remember everything that hangs in the balance."

Dylan gritted his teeth. This was the moment he'd been waiting for, when she reminded him that she had the power to make or break his career. "I'll need more resources, then. A team watching the house. And also I need resources to track down every last Cochran."

"Whatever you need. Just keep my daughter safe and in the dark. I don't need this shit blowing back."

"That's a mistake."

Her voice went icy and clipped. "That, Agent Donovan, is an order. Am I clear?"

No, she was not fucking clear. She was being irrational, putting her own wishes above her daughter's safety. The question was, was he going to do what was best for Sera, or what was best for her mother?

* * *

Dylan spent the next several hours organizing additional security. Shit was getting real and there was no way he was going to leave Sera unprotected. He'd already made up his mind to tell her what was happening. It was a risk. But he didn't agree with the senator's assessment. Sera wasn't that same kid she'd been. She was strong. And she needed to know what was happening. It was her life that was in danger. The senator wouldn't like it, but he'd rather have an angry senator on his hands than have something happen to Sera on his watch.

At the usual time, he went up to find Taj chattering away about some new guy in accounting. Sera looked up with a startled smile. "Oh, is it five thirty already?"

Taj grinned and stood. "I'll just make myself scarce in case you two need to make googly eyes at each other." She winked at him as she grabbed her laptop and her bag. "See you tonight, baby girl. As much as I want us to hang some more, Delicious D, it's girls’ night. You'll be okay without your girl for a couple of hours, right?"

He laughed. "Somehow I'll manage."

He waited until they were on the ferry to broach the subject. What if you’re wrong? What if she can't handle it? He watched her with a smile while she chatted about the Go Girl event. She was so excited and so determined to make a difference. She was strong enough. He had to trust her.

"…so then we're going to have—" She stopped abruptly and looked behind her. "What are you looking at? You've been staring at me for the last ten minutes."

His lips quirked. Maybe he had been staring at her. "Sera, there's something I need to tell you."

She ran a hand over her wild curls. "I knew it. My hair looks like I gave a poodle a perm today. I ran out of my honeysuckle conditioner this morning and the curls are doing something funny, so my afro is on a whole other level today. I knew Taj was lying when she said I was bringing the Diana Ross look back. This is more like a Jheri curl."

Despite what he had to tell her, he barked out a laugh. Leave it to Sera to have him laughing. "No, your hair, though a little crazy, isn't what I have to talk to you about."

Her delicate brows drew down. "So all day I've been walking around like this and you said nothing."

He shook his head while laughing. "Sera, I'm serious."

She sobered quickly and the teasing, mischievous glint vanished from her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Exhaling he began. "I know this is going to suck, but it's gotten to the point that I'm not going to lie you anymore despite what your mother would prefer."

Instead of facing the bay, Sera turned to face him. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not here to make sure you stay out of trouble and make it to your mother's announcement."

She went still, her voice whisper-soft when she spoke. "Excuse me?"

Now or never, Donovan. "Your mother has been receiving threatening letters about her campaign and bid for president for several months. Several of the letters were more concerning, referencing your brother's death. Those letters also pointed to you as a potential target for an attack, or kidnapping."

For several seconds, Sera seemed not to breathe. She sat stock-still, staring up at him. Finally she sucked in a deep breath. "So when I told her something seemed off, she made it seem like I was crazy."

"Sera, I was under strict orders not to tell you. She was worried that—"

"What?" she hissed. "That I'd lose my mind? Go crazy? That my emotional state would get in the way of her running for president?"

He couldn't really argue with that. "She was concerned that you'd spiral into depression again. That the pressure would be too much."

Sera dug her hands into her curls and turned out to face the bay. "I wasn't depressed. I was grieving. Because I didn't immediately put on a brave face after Malcolm died, she couldn't handle it. Tucked me away in a facility. And when the doctors there told her that I just needed time, she found a doctor who would prescribe me something just to make me easier to handle. Fuck."

The quiver in her voice broke his heart. He didn't know the family dynamic. There wasn't a damn bit of solace he could offer her. "Sera, for what it's worth, I think she's concerned about your well-being. She did send me here to protect you, after all."

She whirled on him. "I knew it. I knew you were all wrong for a fixer."

"I'm sorry for the lie, Sera."

Cursing under her breath she turned back to look out at the bay. "It doesn't matter what I do. Or what I accomplish. If I'm not doing what she wants, then I'm acting out, being unreasonable. On the verge of crazy. I'm just choosing to live my own life. You know that this doesn't even surprise me? This is just like her."

Dylan tucked his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry, Sera. There's more bad news."

"Dude, you're the gift that keeps on giving, aren't you?"

"It seems that way. Listen a few weeks ago, your mother intercepted a letter meant for you."

Her beautiful dark eyes narrowed. "Explain ‘intercepted.’"

Uh yeah, he wasn't opening that can right now. "We'll get to that later, but someone wanted to let you know they were watching you."

"No. Now is good. Explain intercepted."

Shit. "Your mother has someone on staff in the building that reviews all your mail."

She blinked once, then again. "And somehow I'm the crazy one."

"Have I called you crazy once, Serafina?"

She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "No. You haven't."

"My hands were tied, and I'm breaking protocol. But look, that guy at the hotel."

Sera shook her head. "You and I already know it wasn't Tommy Cochran. He's in jail."

"No, it isn't him. But I'm pretty damn sure it's one of his brothers. I've seen him, too."

For a long moment she didn't speak, didn't move, only swayed a little. "Where?" she asked in a breathy whisper.

"That day we went to lunch with Taj and Ava. Then I was scouring footage of the Westhorpe. The image I got was only a profile and it was inconclusive. What sealed this whole mess was when I was finally able to get footage of your building the day the letter was delivered. The Wednesday before I arrived. There is a clear shot of someone who could easily be Tommy Cochran’s twin. Down to the tattoos."

"I—that day. I could have sworn I saw him. I thought…" She sniffed. "I thought maybe I was going crazy like my mother says. That I was losing it."

"You weren't losing it. I'm not sure what's going on, but I'll find out. If I had to guess I'd say someone wanted you to think you were going crazy. Maybe to trigger your mother's response and have her pull out of the race."

"So for weeks someone has been fucking with me—because of her."

"It's just a theory, but it would seem that way."

Her eyes were wide with fear, but also resignation, and he hated seeing that look. "Do I have to go into protective custody?"

He shook his head. "No, not yet. I've got additional protection. I want to flush this fucker out. I had to tell you. I didn't want to lie to you anymore."

"Aren't you risking your career? If I know my mother, she'll be pissed."

"If we are going to get through the next few weeks we need to trust each other, and that goes both ways. I can't expect you to trust me if I'm not telling you the truth. From here on out, no more lies."

"I just want this all to be over."

He just hoped that telling her didn't put her in more danger. "Can you tell me about that day you lost Malcolm?"

Sera stiffened, then gripped the railing of the ferry tightly. "My brother was just back from college. He'd insisted on Stanford, much to Mom's chagrin. But he could do no wrong at the end of the day. She'd really wanted him to go to Harvard, though. At the last minute, she'd had the president personally call Malcolm to invite him. But that was my brother for you. Knew his own mind. Did exactly as he pleased."

"Your mother can't really have been upset about Stanford, though."

She rolled her eyes. "You've met my mother, right? She was upset that her edict wasn't followed, but Malcolm didn't give a shit." Sera was quiet for a long time, but he didn't want her to stop. The more she talked, the more connected he felt. To somebody, to something. "What happened that day?"

"Tommy Cochran and his brothers had a problem with my mother's policy on repeat violent offenders. She wanted to remove the early parole eligibility and was championing a bill. Their brother James was doing a stretch for assault and battery. That's all Tommy Cochran needed to have an underlying hatred for her. That and she was black. I don't know what they were thinking. Maybe they thought they could trade a life for a life or something. Maybe they thought that their brother's life was worth more. Either way, by kidnapping us, they thought they had her. But they didn't know my mother."

"Sera—"

"Tommy, that day, he was always staring at me. Malcolm did his best to protect me. He'd kept me right by his side, refused to let one of them take me to the bathroom. He was the perfect big brother. He didn't like the way Cochran looked at me."

Oh shit. Dylan didn't want to hear this. But she wasn't even looking at him, lost in her own thoughts.

"Malcolm fell asleep once and Cochran got in my face. He kept saying things like I was half decent-looking for a black girl. He'd always wondered what it would be like to fuck one." Her voice trembled but she continued. "Malcolm woke up and found Tommy touching my hair and me whimpering and he launched himself at him."

"Jesus, Sera."

Her voice broke. "And that asshole shot him." She shook her head. "I barely remembered what happened after that. SWAT came in. I was so numb with shock. I just kept holding on to Malcolm, begging him to hold on. To stay, because I needed my big brother." She swiped the tears away with the back of her hand. "Do you know what he whispered to me as he was dying?"

"What?" Dylan forced a whisper. Every word that stripped off her tongue added a hairline fracture to his already-destroyed heart.

"He told me that none of it was my fault. That's what he said to me as he was bleeding out on my lap. Said that it wasn't my fault and said I had to promise him to remember that. That I couldn't blame myself and to live. Like really live. Live for both of us."

"Shit, Sera."

"So yeah, I was a bit of a mess after that. Mom, well, you know her, she just carried on. Focused on her constituents instead of her daughter. It had only been two months, but she wanted the problem of my grieving over with. She had an election to run. I think it was her second term she was running for. I don't remember. Behind the scenes I was supposed to be okay. But for the cameras, she was every bit the grieving mother. She's such a hypocrite."

"Your brother must've loved you very much."

"You didn't even know him."

Feelings weren't really his strong suit. But he could actually put forth the effort here. "I know how I feel about my sisters." He nodded. "You're tough, it's admirable. I know he'd probably be proud of you."

"I hope so. The thing is, before then, Mom and I were sorta close, you know? But then everything happened and she refused to understand what I was going through. She thought she could fix everything with that rigid control on her life, my father's, mine. But control was the last thing I needed." She sniffed. "Now we barely speak."

In that moment Dylan knew he was really in trouble, because not only did he feel that gnawing desire for her. He respected the hell out of her too.

* * *

Sera blinked up at Dylan. She hadn't told anybody about that day. She hadn't shared that part of herself, ever. Not to the myriad of doctors, not to her father, certainly not to her mother. It had all been just the facts. Malcolm woke up, bum-rushed Tommy, Tommy shot him. None of the emotion, none of the pain. None of her own personal guilt of getting her brother killed. The one person she loved the most in the world.

She didn't even realize she'd started crying until the hot splash of a tear hit her hand. Frustrated with herself, she swiped at the tears. They wouldn't help her now and they certainly weren't helping Malcolm.

Dylan didn't say a word; he just pulled her into his side and held her there. Her body easily molded to his. It felt good to be held. It felt good to talk to someone who was really listening.

Sera turned her head into Dylan's strong chest and unabashedly inhaled deep. God, the man smelled good. Last night when she'd been sitting so close to him she'd been fighting the urge to do just this. It was so easy to be with him like this. When she wasn't fighting him she could relax. Be herself.

As he rubbed circles into her back and whispered hushed words, his voice was low, tender, soothing. She knew she could trust him.

Tipping her head up, she met his gaze. As always the intensity scared her, but it also sent a shiver of anticipation through her.

She knew he was going to kiss her. Especially as his eyes tracked the tip of her tongue as she wet her bottom lip. She held her breath in anticipation. This was what she wanted. What she'd been waiting for. Dylan dipped his head, but halted just before sliding his lips over hers as if making one last attempt to fight the pull. But in that moment of hesitation, he must have come to the same conclusion she had. This was happening.

When his lips met hers, the electric spike of arousal chased away the sadness, the doubt, her fear. All that remained was longing. He'd kissed her before and yeah, those kisses had reduced her to puddles of hormones, but this, this was different. His firm lips and sure tongue delivered more than enough skill but also tenderness. This kiss wasn't meant to necessarily seduce.

More to comfort. It was all about the emotion as he cupped her face, and ran a thumb over her cheek. Sera moaned and threw herself into the kiss. Relishing in the way his body pressed into hers, gently coaxing a response.

In the span of seconds, everything changed. With a muffled growl, Dylan took firm control, demanding more from her, sliding his tongue over hers. The pulsing between her thighs was too much to ignore and she pressed further into him.

There was no going back to before. The other night had been about desperate, uncontrollable need. But this. This was different. There would be no hiding from this.

He pulled back slowly, but didn't let her go. Neither of them said a word, but Dylan's eyes stayed pinned on her lips. "We should hurry up and get you to Taj's tonight."

Right. Taj's. What she wanted was for him to kiss her again. But with him, things would rapidly spiral out of control. Maybe a night with her friends would help her gain a little perspective.

As they turned the corner to her house, Sera groaned. Aaron was leaning against the hood of his Mercedes, blocking her driveway. "I'll deal with this." She needed a quick shower before she headed to Taj's, but at this rate she'd be late.

As they approached, Aaron scowled at Dylan. "What, you two are living together now?"

Sera had to work overtime to keep her voice even. "That's none of your business, Aaron. You want to tell me why you're blocking my driveway? Better yet, what you're doing here?"

He gave her a sheepish smile. "I wanted us to talk, properly. I figured if I blocked your driveway you'd have to hear me out. I didn't think that idiot would be here."

Dylan's low chuckle beside her made her skin tingle, but she forced herself to focus on Aaron.

"Why is he an idiot? Because he's good-looking, smart, and won't cheat on me?"

Aaron ran his hands though his hair. "Look, I've said I'm sorry a dozen times, but you don't even hear me out."

She spread her arms. "You came all this way from La Jolla, so go ahead, make me see reason. Make me see how you making the choice to sleep with someone else was somehow not your fault."

"Fuck, you're being difficult on purpose."

She was so damn done with people calling her difficult. "I think we have a fundamental difference in values, intellectual level, and sanity. What you call difficult, I call having some self-respect."

"Sera, that's not what—"

"It's time for you to shut up now, I'm talking. I think that was always our problem. You figured you could just talk your way into my bed, into my heart, into my mother's pocket. I know you were only dating me for your political aspirations."

"That's not—"

Dylan's voice was deep. "I feel like she told you to shut the fuck up."

Aaron scowled, but did as Dylan told him. And Sera continued. "You really think after you've cheated on me and are protecting the person you cheated with that I would ever come back to you? You think that I think that little of myself?" She sneered at him. "And while we're at it, you think after I've been with him"—she inclined her head toward Dylan—"that I'm coming back to the likes of you? You really must be drinking that Kool-Aid you've been shoving down my gullet for years."

Aaron shifted from foot to foot. "Sera, I know I fucked this whole thing up. I know it. But if we could just talk, you'd see that yes, I made some mistakes, but so did you. I mean, your immaturity—"

Again, he was interrupted by Dylan. This time by his laugh. "Man, you don't have any idea how to apologize, do you? That's good for me." He leaned in and kissed Sera’s neck, just below her ear, eliciting a shiver from her. "I've had my humor quota of the day fulfilled. I'm going to get dinner started. You coming, baby?"

Oh yeah, Dylan was laying it on thick and she could kiss him for it. Well, truthfully she could invent a million reasons to kiss the man, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

She watched him walk in and she turned her attention to Aaron. "I don't want to see you. I don't want to look at you. I don't want you stopping by my office. I don't want you turning up at my house unannounced. I stopped thinking about you weeks ago. You are no longer a blip on my radar. You are forgotten, do you understand?"

The muscle in his jaw ticked. "You really think he's the kind of guy you should end up with? You're a senator's daughter, for fuck’s sake. You need someone who you can take into public, and that guy is all edges. Your mother will toss him out on his ass."

"It's funny you should mention my mother. She always loathed you. And even funnier, she's the one who sent me Dylan. I should really thank her for that. Matter of fact, I'm going to go do that right now. Goodbye, Aaron."