Love by Association

He’d heard. But he knew that so much could happen in just two days, let alone the months and months it must take to write an entire book. After that, who knew? If parents could die in the prime of their lives, then equally good miracles could happen, too, right?

Like maybe a move to New York?

Or, at the very least, frequent flights...

“I heard.”

“And you’re okay with that?” The worry in her gaze hit him harder than the kiss waiting on her lips. She cared, too.

“Yes,” he told her. She’d been honest. If, in the future, they needed to work out something, then they’d work it out.

He spent his days borrowing trouble—looking to the future for any potential pitfalls so that he could protect his clients ahead of time. He’d spent his life doing the same—looking to be used before he looked to be liked.

But not this time.

Two nights ago his life had changed. He’d changed.

And it didn’t seem like there was a lot he could do about that.

Except to see where it was all going to lead.

* * *

THE CHEESE FONDUE appetizer was phenomenal. Chantel, a woman whose appetite was voracious enough to go along with the adrenaline it took to be a beat cop on the streets of California, had to hold herself back to stay in character. But boy, it was good.

Not half as good as the company, though. If all undercover jobs were like this, she’d sign on for life.

Still on her first glass of wine—she couldn’t forget that she was on the job—she sat back while he dipped the last cube of bread into the cheese. Watched a drop of cheese hit his lower lip. And followed his tongue as he cleaned it off.

Attention to detail was her job.

She had no idea how a guy could look so damned sexy cleaning gooey cheese off his lip. She gave herself a little shake, remembering why she was there, and said, “Is Julie feeling better?”

Replacing cheese with a sip of wine, he returned his glass to the table. “I haven’t seen her.”

“She was already gone when you got home?” It was a natural assumption with it being Saturday night and her being twenty-seven.

“No.” He looked toward the ocean. As though some answer was out there, waiting for him to find it.

His sister had been home when he’d stopped there to change, but he hadn’t seen her? Hadn’t he gone to find her, knowing that when he’d dropped her off she’d been upset? They lived in a large house, a mansion by the looks of things. It would be easy for two people to live there and never see each other. But...

Chantel wasn’t a detective yet—mostly because she’d turned down the promotion the first time it had been offered—but she knew a lot about getting information out of subjects. Sometimes you played rough. And sometimes you didn’t say anything at all.

He watched the horizon. She watched him. Wondered at the battle that seemed to be going on within him. He’d been jovial until she’d mentioned Julie.

But he didn’t seem angry. More contemplative.

A whole minute had passed. She took another small sip of wine. Just in case he’d forgotten she was there.

“My sister... I don’t talk about her. Ever.”

“I understand,” she said. When, of course, she didn’t. How could she? She had no idea why a brother wouldn’t talk about his sister. Unless she’d really pissed him off. That clearly wasn’t the case here.

His gaze pierced her. Off balance, she told herself, No more wine. “I want to tell you about her,” he said.

Chantel wanted more wine.

“Okay.”

“I’m not really at liberty to do so. And at the moment, I’m a bit unnerved that I even want to.”

She was beginning to see his problem. “You don’t have to tell me anything.” But the problem lay there between them. He wanted to. And she wanted him to.

She also might need him to, depending on what it was he had to say.

“Julie likes you.”

“She told you that?” She’d been in the car when they’d dropped the other woman off. And he’d just told her he hadn’t seen her since. Didn’t mean they couldn’t have talked, but he’d said he didn’t know how Julie was doing. If he’d talked to her, he’d have had an idea and...

Chantel never quit looking for the lie in everything. She had to be prepared for danger around every corner. It was how she protected lives. Including her own.

“She didn’t have to tell me. In ten years’ time, she’s never...ever...opened up in front of anyone like she did in the car today. You have no idea.”

No...but she was bursting with wanting to. She had to remember she was playing a part. The slightly bored, well-to-do woman on a date. Would she be bored with talk of his sister?