“I worry about you.”

“Ma, there’s nothing to worry about. Don’t create problems where they don’t exist.”

“I know it’s been a long time, but I’ll never forget how horrible it was when you got shot. I never want to go through that again. Your job’s dangerous, and I wonder each day if you’re safe.”

“I know you do, but I’m careful.”

“Yes, you are,” she pauses and nods, before taking the seat across from me at the small kitchen table. “I know you’re good at your job and you love it, but that doesn’t make me worry any less.”

“What can I do to help you?”

“If you wanted to find a desk job, that would work,” she jests, patting my forearm with her hand. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I want you to be happy, I just wish you’d be happy with a safer job.”

“Mom, I’ll be careful as always. Stop worrying and focus on something else.”

She tips her head to the side, scrutinizing my facial features. “I want grandchildren you know?”

“Ma, really? This is where you want to take this conversation?”

“Your father and I aren’t getting any younger. Whatever happened to that blond you brought to your cousin’s wedding?”

“Darcy? She’s just a friend from work.”

“Have you asked her out since the wedding?”

“No. I’m not interested in going out with her. We’re just friends. Can we talk about something else please? How about the Pats? They look great this season.”

“I know, I know. I’m being invasive, but how would I know any of this if I don’t ask. You never tell me anything.”

“Ma, being an FBI Agent for the last twelve years hasn’t really been conducive to having deep discussions and sharing personal details.”

“I’m not naive about what your life is like, but you still need a special someone. It’s time for you to open yourself up to meeting new people and trying different things.”

My mind instantly flashes back to last night. Zoe. I wish she’d accepted my invitation for coffee. She was even more stunning than I remembered. It’s been a while since a woman has held my interest for more than sex.

“I’m thirty-four, not eighteen. I’m a grown man capable of making informed decisions about what’s best for me. I know you love me and worry, but you need to let this go.” I shake my head as I rise to my feet.

“Okay, but if you need to talk, I’m here. I’ll tell dad you stopped by.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you soon.” Leaning down I kiss her cheek. “Stop worrying.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s like asking me not to breathe.”

“Where were you last night? I thought we were shooting some hoops?” My friend Martin asks as I slip onto the vacant bar stool next to his at Patriot Blue, our favorite pub.

“I went to the park to get a quick run in and got held up.”

“Dude it’s a Friday night. Why are you running?”

My eyes flick in his direction. “You know I run no matter what.”

“Then what happened?”

“There was a girl running on the path in front of me and I think I spooked her. She tripped and hurt herself and I had to help.” I purposely leave out the details of who it was.

“I get it.” He nods and smirks. “She was hot, right? You just had to help.”

“She was very attractive, but that’s not why.”

“Sure.” He raises his draft to his lips, taking a deep pull.

“Fuck off. You know I’d assist anyone in that situation.”

“Well, did you ask her out?”

I chuckle. “I did, actually. She turned me down though.”

“Did you get her number?”

“No, but she called her roommate from my phone, so I do have a way of getting in touch with her if I want to.”

“That might seem kind of desperate, dude. If she wanted to talk to you again she would have said yes when you asked her out.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. “Yeah.” I shrug my shoulders. “No big deal.” Raising my hand, I call the bartender over and order a Sam Adams.

“Speaking of hot women, do you remember that girl, Zoe Thomas? Both of her parents were agents and were killed by Marius Popov’s crew six years ago and you worked the case?” Martin and I have been coworkers for a while now. He’s privy to the same information I am.

“Yeah, of course I do. I got shot twice and stabbed, asshole. Did you really think I’d forget?” Fuck. Where’s he going with this?

“Come on, I’m just fucking with you. I knew you remembered, although you are getting older.” He smirks. “Anyway, I digress, she’s working at the Bureau now. And she’s easy on the eyes, dude.”

“Really?”

“I’m thinking of asking her out.”

“No fucking way.”

“What?”

“Don’t even think about asking her out.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s way too good for you and she deserves someone who’ll appreciate her. She’s more than just a hot piece of ass.”

“She can always say no.” He smirks, and I want to punch him in his fucking face.

“Martin, stay the fuck away.” After seeing Zoe last night, I realize I’ve never really gotten over her. She was so young back then. We never had a chance, but now we could. I’m not gonna let someone else swoop in and steal my shot. No fucking way.

A floral scent whispers on the air like a feather caught in a gentle breeze, tickling my nose with a sweet familiarity. Zoe. My gaze skims across the sidewalk from one edge to the next, locking on the petite brunette only a few feet away. She pays no mind to the people around her as her dark curls billow wildly around her head in the generous wind. With eyes lowered to her phone, she continues along, ignoring the other pedestrians. Each step closer has my heart hammering inside my chest.

Look up. Look up. I silently shout in my mind. I’m not sure why I’m so overwhelmed with the desire to see her eyes in the daylight. Clenching and unclenching my fists with impatience, I want to see the familiar blue. I already know they’re surrounded by thick dark lashes that make crescent shaped moons on the top of her cheeks as she focuses on her phone.

I’m not prepared for the moment she glances up. Though only a quick sweeping gaze, I notice the sky color of her irises. When our eyes meet for a moment my chest inexplicably tightens as if she’s laid her hands on my heart, squeezing tightly with her small fist. I’ve never experienced anything like this strange phenomenon and it shakes me. I’m not someone who gets emotional or attached. My chosen career has taught me to turn my feelings on and off like the flip of a simple switch. I’m an expert at compartmentalizing my thoughts and I don’t have time for regrets, but I do have regrets when it comes to her.

Zoe passes on by without losing a step. Didn’t she recognize me?

Don’t let her disappear. The thought strikes me, and my feet abruptly halt their forward progress. I run a shaking hand over my perspiration covered brow as disgruntled pedestrians angrily mutter under their breath, navigating around my still form.

What’s wrong with me?

Follow her. Don’t let her slip away. The words repeatedly flash through my mind like a strobe light.

Pivoting, I head down the pitted sidewalk in the same direction as Zoe. My eyes hungrily search for her petite frame in the thick crowd of pedestrians. Hurrying my stride, I breathe deeply until I catch a whisper of her sweet scent on the breeze. It’s the same perfume she was wearing at the park. It temptingly clung to my shirt for the rest of the night, a constant reminder of how good she felt in my arms and how kissable her full lips are. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it now or if I’m really smelling her perfume, but it doesn’t matter because...there she is.

Exhaling a large sigh, my lips ease into a relieved smile. Continuing along, I follow her all the way to a popular cafe. Her hand closes around the door handle and my stomach sinks with disappointment.

“Zoe, wait up,” a tall blonde girl calls out. She turns and leans back preventing the door from closing until they pass through it together. I watch until she’s out of sight.

“Zoe,” I whisper her name and grin. I can’t believe this is the second time I’ve seen her in three days and tomorrow we’re back at work. It’s about time some good fortune came my way. Since seeing her at the park I've been questioning why I didn’t reach out to her after I got released from the hospital. At that point my job protecting her was over and it was no longer a conflict of interest, but I was too busy trying to be selfless.

None of the mistakes of the past matter now that she’s back in my life. Adjusting the baseball cap on my head, I turn back toward the parking garage my car is in, whistling a lively Irish tune.