Ivy leaned closer to the mirror to smooth the red lipstick over her lips, thinking, for some reason, about when she’d first joined Whisper Line. She’d submitted a brief online application, then had a phone interview with a supervisor. After leaping that hurdle, she’d corresponded, via text, with one of the operators to learn more about the ins and outs of the job.

“All it really comes down to is how good you are at faking it,” that girl had said. “How long you’re able to keep the illusion going. Hell, I’m usually watching TV while I’m working. You get really, really good at multitasking.”

And though Ivy couldn’t say she watched a lot of TV, she had been very interested in a job that allowed her to work on her own terms, earning money when and where she wanted to, instead of having to show up somewhere on someone else’s time and schedule. School kept her so busy, but she’d needed a way to pay rent and manage her finances.

She loved working for Whisper Line when she had the time, usually at home, after classes and homework were through. Ivy had always had a healthy sexual appetite, and even if she didn’t have time to date with her busy schedule, she didn’t so much as pretend to be turned on when she texted with guys looking to get it off. She actually was. This was as much of a job as it was an outlet for her own desires.

Still, she hadn’t ever had an interaction as intense as the one with Cole, not in her three-year history with Whisper Line. She might think about the suggestions her clients sent to her later, while she was in bed, playing with her vibrator. But this was the first time she’d been in the moment, right there with somebody, fingers twisting against her clit, orgasm ripping through her body like she hadn’t had one in weeks.

And that’s why she’d dug through her closet, found a dress she’d only worn a couple of times before, actually made an attempt to style her hair into soft waves, and was carefully applying makeup.

Ivy had never met any of her contacts from Whisper Line in public before. Not even the ones who’d wanted to meet. Especially not them. She’d earned more than her fair share of admirers during her tenure at Whisper Line, and there had never been a single one she’d wanted to carry on with in person.

She had various ways of shutting them down. Mostly true things about her being too busy to have a real boyfriend. Other times, lines about wanting to preserve the magic and the mystery of not knowing each other’s true identities. Something about their time over text being more romantic that way. And then there had been all these admissions, men eager to tell her who they were, like their names would impress her.

She rarely recognized the names. And when she did, she wasn’t impressed. It just made her a little sad that even someone rich and famous couldn’t manage to find love in a more traditional manner.

So Ivy paused, pressing her lips together, looking at herself in the mirror. “What are you doing?” she whispered. Maybe she could simply chalk this up to her rewarding herself for another semester of med school in the bag. Treating herself. Wasn’t that how her dad had put it?

Of course, he probably wouldn’t have said anything at all if he’d suspected that she might meet up with a strange but sexy new guy as a way to treat herself to the summer that lay ahead.

It was just a dinner date. At a bar. The longer Ivy stayed here, overanalyzing her hair, makeup, and outfit, the more she’d overthink it. She grabbed her purse and phone and left, hailing a taxi a few blocks from her apartment.

She was a little early, but she glanced across the crowded bar and spotted him immediately. Cole stood out, tall, bulky, and muscular—the white button-down shirt he was wearing straining to cover him. He was, if possible, even more handsome in person than in the photo he’d sent, and that was a beautiful thing. Ivy was plenty familiar with the phenomenon of men in person not matching the photos they selected to represent themselves on online dating sites.

In the split second of an instant, she saw the future. She could probably blame it on the way her body reacted to him, the minute tightening of her nipples beneath the material of her dress. The sudden, sharp pulse of want between her legs. But something in her knew that they were going to end up in bed together at the end of the night. It was as inevitable as breathing. All she knew was that she was really, really looking forward to it. Her vibrator was good and all, but nothing measured up to the real thing.

Ivy slipped through the crowd, wondering what other expectations of hers Cole Hardcastle was prepared to surpass.

“Hi, Cole,” she said, sidling up to him, feeling her cheeks heat up as he turned and aimed that grin at her. How did anyone have a right to be just so good looking? She fought the urge to fan herself. It would be over the top, even if her face was hot.

Those blue eyes all but picked her apart, though she pressed her legs together when he groaned in a low voice. “I would’ve thought for sure I’d remember meeting someone like you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You must be Ivy,” he said quickly, extending his hand. “I don’t know where my manners are. It’s nice to see you.”

She smiled at the gesture before taking his hand. “I think we could have at least a hug, given what we did this morning,” she suggested.

Cole laughed. “All right. I agree. Sorry for being so formal.”

“You’re fine. It was sweet, really. Old-fashioned.”

Ivy couldn’t help the small squeak she made as Cole wrapped those strong arms around her. Each of those biceps was nearly the size of her head. He bent down to murmur in her ear, lips brushing her cheek on the way down.

“If you think good manners are old-fashioned, then let me take a moment to apologize on behalf of my gender.” He straightened, those blue eyes serious and in true danger of making Ivy melt on the spot. “I’d consider it an honor to have the opportunity to treat you right.”

She had the sneaking suspicion that she was getting in over her head with this—that Cole was a really, genuinely nice guy—but she plunged forward anyway.

“You can start by getting me a beer,” she said, smiling. “If you can get the bartender’s attention. This place is awfully crowded for a Monday, isn’t it?”

“Mondays are the best days to come here,” he said, reaching his huge arm out over the crowd and waving down the bartender with his paw of a hand. “The whole ‘case of the Mondays’ thing? The beginning of the work week? Not a thing here. They always book awesome bands, plus they have a wings special. You like wings, right?”

“Who doesn’t like wings?” Ivy countered. “Because those are the people you have to watch out for.”

Cole laughed, throwing his head back, and she joined him. He had such an infectious laugh that it was impossible not to. She already liked him. How was that possible? She might’ve been biased. It was easy to like handsome men with enormous muscles. And the fact that she hadn’t dated anyone since the beginning of medical school.

“So, what do you do?” he asked, and Ivy cocked her head at him. “You know. Case of the Mondays? Where do you work?”

“You mean, besides the obvious?” she purred.

He didn’t react how she thought he should. He blinked rapidly at her, then shook his head and laughed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “There are a few blank spots in my memory from last night, and you telling me about yourself seems to be one of them. Wish it wasn’t.”

Ivy pursed her lips, considering this development. Cole was obviously under the impression that they’d seen each other and spoken last night. She wasn’t sure what to do. Because when it came down to what she “did,” it was phone sex.

He seemed so all-American, she didn’t want to shock him like that. And she didn’t want to drive him away.

Even though Ivy couldn’t come up with a scenario in which he didn’t understand that he’d texted a phone sex agency last night and gotten her, she made a snap decision.

“I’m in med school,” she said. “Just took my last final of the semester this morning.”

“That’s amazing,” Cole exclaimed, handing Ivy her beer, and she felt strangely guilty. “You’re going to be a doctor.”

“In a year more of school. And following a residency. If all goes according to plan.”

“Here’s to it all going according to plan, then,” he said, clinking his bottle against hers. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” It wasn’t a lie. She really was going to become a doctor. Why did Ivy feel like a complete imposter? It was just that, right now, she was making that goal possible by being a phone sex operator. “And you’re in the Navy.”

“I’m a Navy SEAL,” Cole clarified. “And you probably think I’m a complete asshole.”

Ivy huffed a laugh. “That’s the last thing I think, believe me.”

“Oh, we’re buzzing.” He held out an electronic disk that blinked red lights. “Table’s ready.”

When he took her hand to lead her through the crowd, Ivy had to marvel at the strange feeling of being protected. Looked out for.

It was the simplest thing in the world. It wasn’t as if she would have lost him in the crowd—he was taller than almost everyone else by a head. But the fact that he’d reached behind him and snagged her hand, his palm rough and warm, gave her a security she hadn’t ever felt. Ivy was used to taking care of herself. It was a necessity with medical school, helping her parents out, living alone in a city. But it was nice, she realized, to rely on someone else.

Cole put in an order for some wings and another round of beers, and Ivy smiled at him.

“Why would I think you were an asshole?” she asked.

He shrugged, polishing off his beer. “You probably met me in a blackout state last night. It’s not a state I find myself in very often, though, so you don’t have to worry. Last night was a special occasion. Yesterday morning, I got back in the country after my very last mission as a SEAL.”

A few puzzle pieces fell into place. So Cole did think they met last night, and apparently had no memory of signing up for Whisper Line. He’d been drunk. Ivy could work with this. Especially since he was a Navy SEAL. She realized he was probably a lot tougher than he acted. Those muscles weren’t just for show. They had seen action.

“Oh, wow,” she said. “What’s that like?”

“Mission’s classified, Ivy.”

She grinned. “I mean retiring. You’re a young man.” She leaned closer. “You’ve got a lot of good years ahead of you, just by looking at you.”

“I’m 32.”

“Still awfully soon for retirement.”

“I’m looking at other options. Maybe something in private security. Plenty of options right here in our nation’s capital for that.”

“That’s exciting. A new beginning.”

“In more ways than one,” he agreed. “I’ve spent a lot of my life in the shadows, both literal and figurative. I’d be interested in coming into the light.”

Ivy smiled as the waitress dropped off their order of wings and more beer. “Welcome to the light, on behalf of all of us who don’t live our lives in classified situations.”

“Maybe I’ll get used to it, one of these days,” Cole said, picking a little at the label on his beer bottle. “This morning, honest to God, felt like a baptism.”

Ivy’s smile faltered a little. “What do you mean?”

He picked up a chicken wing, but didn’t bite into it. “I don’t know. I felt…this connection. I’ve never felt that with someone before. I’m sorry if this is sudden, or weird. It was just text messages this morning, but we really must’ve clicked last night.”

Ivy paused at this. Even though the wings were dripping with sauce and looked delicious, she’d lost a good deal of her appetite. Cole was a good guy. She barely knew him, but she knew he was good, or that he at least tried to be.

She should end this. Make her exit. Because he didn’t deserve to figure out that their connection was just part of the skills she’d developed to keep guys on the line with her. To keep the money rolling in.

“I think I need another beer,” Ivy said, chugging hers.

“Too much, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I mean, no. I mean…it’s been a while since I’ve done this.” The waitress came back with another round of beers, and Ivy realized Cole must have signaled while she’d been floundering. “And by this, I mean going out on a date with someone. I’ve never gone out with someone after a steamy sext session.”

“Then I consider it an honor,” he said. “Would it be too much to tell you that I’ve never come so hard in my life as I did this morning?”

She threw her head back and laughed. “You, too, huh?”

“Tell you what.” He downed his beer easily to keep pace with her, and then pushed the fresh one in front of Ivy’s plate. “Let’s start this over. Do it right. Will you indulge me?”

“Sure.” Ivy wasn’t sure where Cole was going with this, but she was willing to stick around and find out. He held his huge hand out to her and she eyed it. “Thought we agreed we were past just a handshake.”

“Wrong. We’re starting over again, remember?”

“Oh, right, got it.” She put her hand in his, marveling again at the size difference. “Hi.”

“Hello, there. Cole Hardcastle.”

“Ivy Lightfoot.” She couldn’t help smiling and laughing as he pumped her hand up and down over the plate of chicken wings. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Ivy, the pleasure’s all mine. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and I feel lucky that you’re sitting across from me. Having the chance to go out on a date with you has made me the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

She smiled. She was finding it hard to stop smiling. Out of all of the guys she texted through Whisper Line, how had she gotten the one who was a true gentleman? Never mind his good looks, or the way that she was—if possible—even more attracted to him now that she had a little insight into his character.

“I’m happy to be here, too, Cole.”

And that was God’s honest truth.