As I was getting ready for work the next morning, I fussed way too much about my appearance. I put my hair up in a ponytail, then pulled the elastic out, letting the wild waves free. Yep, definitely down. Oh, what did it matter? I was going to buy an alarm. I had no idea why I was fussing so much. Well, I did... sort of. I wanted to make a good impression when I saw Will in the afternoon. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he thought I was some kind of a ditz. I wanted to rectify that. My dad used to be an Army man, and I’d been around plenty of his peers, so the whole badge/uniform thing didn’t hold a special appeal to me. Quite the contrary. But I couldn’t get Will out of my mind.

I yawned, despite already having had two coffees. I hadn’t been able to sleep a wink the last two nights. Damned jet lag. 

It was a good thing that my first two days back in the LA office were mostly filled with paperwork and setting up my desk. Not much had changed in the years I’d been in Paris. We still rented the same office space on the ground floor of a high-rise. Even the team was the same.

“I can’t believe you gave up Paris,” Ashley said for the millionth time.

“I didn’t give it up. We just weren’t a good fit.”

“Girl, if I didn’t have a husband and two kids, I’d move in the blink of an eye.”

“Trust me, Ashley. Paris isn’t all they make it out to be. Sure, the touristy stuff is nice. The Eiffel Tower and the macaroons. But it’s also crowded, and rents are ridiculous. I was paying half my salary to live in a matchbox outside the city. Commutes took up so long that I didn’t have time to do anything more than work and sleep.”

Ashley sighed. “Don’t ruin my buzz with practicalities.”

They were a fact of life, though. I’d never intended to move for good, I had just viewed it as a great learning experience. I was a development director, and there were more projects there. But I felt I could make more of a difference here, and that was what mattered after all. Plus, I had the opportunity to get a new project off the ground. I still had to hammer out a few details with my boss, but I’d bring those up once I’d put the jet lag behind me.

That master plan was nixed when my boss knocked at the open door.

“Paige, is this a good time to talk about the education center program?”

It was an awful time. My brain worked backward. But you didn’t tell your boss no.

“Sure.”

“I’ll leave you two,” Ashley said. After she left, Greg got right down to business.

“I was expecting you to be one of those people we lost forever to Paris.”

It was clear from his tone he’d hoped I wouldn’t come back. Greg wasn’t my biggest fan. He saw me as direct competition, even though I’d never wanted his job. The dislike was mutual. He had a misogynistic streak that reared its ugly head from time to time. When I’d started working with him at twenty-one, he’d intimidated me. Seven years later, I’d learned to ignore him.

“I looked over your proposal. It’s bold.”

Translation: crazy.

I wanted to set up an education center for people who’d grown up homeless. Theoretically, that shouldn’t happen, but enough of them slipped through the cracks of the social system, reaching adulthood without any meaningful education or skills to get a job, which continued to keep them on the streets. It was a vicious circle. We could change that, teach them employable skills. I’d toyed with this idea since the last time I’d been home for a visit, when I’d ran into a group of homeless teenagers. They had hopes and dreams like everyone else, but absolutely no means to make them happen. My parents had always worked hard so my siblings and I would have everything we needed. Where would we be if they hadn’t? I knew I shouldn’t be so involved, but I couldn’t help it. It felt personal.

“I can pull it off, though. No one thought I could set up the cross-European program in France, but I did.”

“You drive a hard bargain. I see Paris hasn’t mellowed you.”

“Not one bit.”

“I’d rather you focused your efforts elsewhere.”

“This isn’t the only project I’ll be working on.” But it was the one I cared most about.

“No grant funding for this one.”

“Why not?”

“Because we have a quota for those, and I’d rather you use it for other projects. Focus on private donors.”

That made my job significantly harder.

“Tell you what. Get letters of intent for at least 25 percent of the financing from private donors, and then I’ll reconsider. You know the drill.”

I did, which was why I instantly knew that Greg wouldn’t be swayed by 25 percent. I’d need at least 50 percent to convince him this wouldn’t be a waste of time.

“I’ll leave you to settle. Keep me updated.”

“I will.”

Ashley returned after Greg left and hovered around my desk, bringing me up to speed. In the afternoon, I started feeling human again. I drew up a list of companies I could approach for funding. I’d already worked with most of the firms on my list. I’d kept in touch with them, because I’d learned early on how important connections were. I’d have to tailor my pitch for each of them. Some would be interested in the cause itself, others only in how much PR they could milk from their contribution. That didn’t bother me. Most companies donated because it would look good in their annual report and on their website, but money was money.

I headed to one of my favorite coffee shops in Venice Beach to work on the pitches. It was far away from the boardwalk and the tourists. Greg didn’t much care where the work was done—one of the only things I appreciated about him—and now that I was back in LA, I planned to take as much advantage of the sun as possible, soak it all in. I relished feeling the fine sand under my feet, smearing sunscreen on my arms and ankles. Sitting in the outdoor section of the coffee shop, a large hat on my head, I tinkered with the pitch presentations for hours. I’d finished three of twenty-one by the time I had to leave to meet Will. I had my work cut out for me for the rest of the week.

I stopped by the restroom first, taking in my appearance. Despite the hat, the tip of my nose was pink. That was the first step in getting a tan. In the second step, I’d look like a lobster for about a week before my skin turned golden brown.

I refreshed my makeup, dabbing some mascara. I’d forgotten my comb at home, so I ran my hands through my tresses.

Will was in front of the store when I arrived, leaning casually against a wall. I took in every detail. That defined jaw covered by a faint stubble, the planes of his cheeks....

He was wearing a black leather jacket that was stretched taut over his shoulders and muscular arms. It was unzipped, so I also had a clear view of his torso. His bone structure wasn’t the only stunning thing about him. I couldn’t get over how hot he was.

Then I noticed the motorcycle a few feet away. Wowza. Add another few points to the sexiness factor. Good thing he hadn’t shown up wearing that jacket on my doorstep.

“Good evening, Detective.” I walked up to him. He fixed his gaze on my nose. I suspected I looked like Rudolph the reindeer right now.

“You were out in the sun.”

I nodded, taking my hat off, rolling it tightly and placing it in my tote.

“Worked from a coffee shop in Venice Beach for half the day, sitting at a table outside.”

“What do you do for work?” he asked as we entered the store. It boasted a large array of electronics.

“I’m a development director at a nonprofit. Three Emeralds; you might have heard of it.”

“Of course I’ve heard of it.” His eyes went wide, like he had a hard time reconciling the job with the woman in front of him.

“You expected something else?”

“I thought you worked in fashion. A model, maybe, because you mentioned Paris.”

He lowered his gaze, and I felt tendrils of heat licking everywhere he looked. Hell, I felt them even where he didn’t look. My nipples perked up.

“You didn’t think I was a detective either when you met me, though, did you?” he asked.

“Well, no. I thought you were an actor.”

He winked, then straightened, rolling his shoulders. The badge flashed at his belt as he pointed to the stack at our right side. “Stick to these. They’re more expensive, but they’re harder to trick. Thieves have become more proficient at fooling old-school alarms.”

He explained the ins and outs of various models. They all sounded the same to me, so I intended to go with my gut feeling and the price. I didn’t need any fancy add-ons, but that didn’t keep Will from giving me the nitty-gritty on the newest models.

I found myself paying more attention to him than to what he was saying. He really had incredible arms. He’d taken off his jacket and was wearing a black shirt with short sleeves that hugged his biceps.

“Pay attention. Not everyone knocking at your door will be as harmless as me. Or as handsome.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, and I couldn’t help laughing. “You did not say that.”

“I did. You disagree?”

“Maybe I do.”

“So you thought I was an actor because of my hideous looks?”

I folded my arms over my chest, attempting to come up with a smart-ass answer. But I had an inkling that I’d met my match in that department.

“I can’t believe you’re punishing me for that.”

“I’m not punishing you. Just enjoying this too much to stop.”

“Bad form, Detective. Making others uncomfortable for your own amusement.”

He came a little closer. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Paige?” He leaned in even closer. “Tell you a secret? Looks to me like you’re enjoying this too.”

Yep, I’d met my match, no doubt about that. I was tongue-tied, and the answer was a resounding yes. I was enjoying this. Ridiculous, wasn’t it? A trip to buy an alarm shouldn’t be this fun. 

I broke the eye contact, finding my voice. I wouldn’t go down without a sassy reply.

“You’re so boastful.” I took one of the alarm systems from the shelf, and we started walking toward the registers. 

“My sisters would agree with you.”

“Good to know. How many do you have?”

“Three.”

“Big family.”

“Also two brothers.”

“Cocky like you?”

“They try. Takes a special kind of talent to make it work.”

My entire body shook with laughter as I paid for the alarm.

“Thanks for your advice,” I said as we left the store. The sky had turned a dark orange. Sunset was approaching. “Can I buy you a taco? As a thank-you for helping me out?” I pointed to the taco truck on the other side of the street.

“Sure.”

We ate side by side at one of the two high tables in front of the truck. The light breeze from earlier turned chilly, and I put on the lace cardigan I’d tucked in my tote that morning. Will slipped on his leather jacket. What a shame he covered all those muscles. I was conflicted. On the one hand, he looked mouthwatering with that jacket on, but without it, I could admire those biceps to my heart’s desire. His phone kept buzzing from one of his pockets.

“What’s with all the messages?”

“My sister is reminding me about some of my tasks for her wedding. Seems to think I’ll forget them if she doesn’t send reminders.”

“Does she have reason to believe that?”

“Not at all. I’m a very responsible older brother.”

I couldn’t imagine Will as anything but a cocky troublemaker, but maybe there was more to him than packs of muscles and a panty-melting smile.

“So, she’s just a regular bridezilla, then?”

“Nah, but she’s a wedding planner. Loves her checklists.” The warmth in his voice was a dead giveaway that he wasn’t really annoyed with her. 

While we ate, Will kept looking around us. I knew that behavior. I called it the silent vigilante. It reminded me of how I felt every time I went somewhere with my dad. He’d retired from the Army years ago, but old habits died hard. He was constantly on the lookout. He always said, “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll keep you safe.” The ironic thing was, seeing him looking for danger everywhere had made me feel unsafe. I’d always been too consumed with worry that something could happen to him.

“Relax, Detective. You’re making me nervous, looking around for trouble.”

“Sorry, it’s habit.”

“Are you on duty now?”

“No.”

“Then enjoy your time off. Go back to making me feel uncomfortable with your cockiness, not the broody forehead.”