Jonah (Chicago Blaze 7)

“I suppose you’re right.”

My next words fly out of my mouth before I have time to think about them. “Have you been with anyone since losing your wife?” As soon as I realize what I’ve said, I cringe. “I’m so sorry, don’t answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jonah’s smile is easy. “It’s fine. I’ve been with a couple women since, but it was only one time with each of them.”

“Was that hard for you?”

He’s silent as he gathers his thoughts before replying. “Yeah, it was. The first time, anyway. At a certain point I think your physical urges just kind of take over, though. For men, anyway. It’s probably different with women.”

“I think so. Women are always thinking, you know?”

He laughs. “Always. Every single second.”

We walk in comfortable silence until we arrive at a little restaurant where Jonah opens the door and places his hand on my back as we walk inside.

Once we’re seated, Jonah scans the menu and says, “We’ve gotta get some chili cheese fries, they have amazing ones here. Obviously we’re gonna get some Chicago-style dogs, too. And don’t ask for ketchup, whatever you do.”

“How big are the hot dogs?”

“They’re decent sized, but if you’re hungry, I’d get at least two.”

I take his advice, and end up eating every last crumb of my two hot dogs and a lot of the fries, too. I think Jonah and I are both pretending we don’t see the guy snapping photos of us from a corner booth of the small restaurant.

“If you see photos anywhere of me inhaling those hot dogs, I don’t even want to know about it,” I say under my breath as we leave the restaurant.

“You looked like a Chicago girl having fun,” he says. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“It was fun,” I say. “Thanks for taking me.”

He takes my hand again as we walk and I ask, “Why are we getting along better now?”

“I figured you decided to lose the chip on your shoulder.”

I whip my head around and take in the serious expression on his face, and as I wind up with a fiery response, he bursts out laughing.

“I’m joking, Rey.” He squeezes my hand. “It takes time to adjust to someone new, you know? And I thought I’d never be on a date with any woman but my wife for the rest of my life. But we’re working through it.”

The reverence in his voice every time Jonah mentions his late wife makes my heart ache. He’s a truly good guy. And while his stubble and perfect smile and toned body are attractive, it’s Jonah’s heart that makes him dead sexy.

“It was my fault,” I admit. “That first date. I let the Cuban out.”

Jonah gives me a puzzled look and I laugh.

“I was mostly raised by my Cuban grandmother. I’m a lot like her, and I’ve had to work hard to train the temper and loudness out of myself. Not that it’s wrong or anything—no one means more to me than my grandmother did—but it’s not the right fit for my work. I had to learn to be more…forgettable, I guess.”

“I’ve got bad news for you,” Jonah says, amused. “You’re not the least bit forgettable.”

“Well, I’m working on it.”

“Don’t.” He turns serious.

“I have to, for work, especially while undercover.”

“I get that. But the rest of the time, be that hotheaded Cuban. You’re not meant to be forgettable.”

My heart warms at his compliment. “Thanks. But for me, there is no rest of the time. I’m pretty much always working.”

“And that’s by choice?”

I nod. “I love what I do with my whole heart and soul. It’s not a job, it’s a calling.”

“I feel the same way about hockey.”

We get to Navy Pier, joggers and families with kids passing us by. I stare at the huge Ferris wheel, and Jonah asks me, “Wanna ride it?”

“Yes! Will you ride it with me?”

“Of course.”

Jonah buys us tickets, and when we slide into the little cage we’re riding in, I feel a childlike burst of excitement. I grew up poor and there wasn’t extra money for amusement parks or vacation trips.

“Will it go fast?” I ask Jonah.

“No?” He wrinkles his brow. “Have you ever been on a Ferris wheel before?”

“No, this is my first time.”

Jonah slides his thumb across his phone screen and holds it up, taking a picture of me. I slide closer to him, snuggling into his side like a real girlfriend would. He’s warm, and every inch of him is hard with muscle. Once we’re cuddled up, he takes the cue and snaps a few selfies of us as the Ferris wheel starts moving.

At the top, I take in a stunning view of the city.

“Incredible,” I murmur.

Jonah’s not looking out at the skyline; he’s looking at me. He takes some more photos of just me, and another of us together. I savor every moment of the ride, wishing it never had to end.