“Yes,” Ava said, just as Luc said hell no.
She’d already whipped out one of those annoying little reporter notebooks with the spiral on top—really, they actually used those?—and looked up at him defiantly.
And a little bit smugly too, because she knew what he knew:
He was supposed to take her with him. The only reason she was here sending him into a daytime wet dream was because she wanted to shadow his every move and then blast his every secret to the entire country.
Luc longed to put an end to it here and now. To tell Ava Sims he wasn’t going to sell out as some sort of hero because he did the same job that thousands of first-responders did every day.
He wanted to tell her to go harass one of those officers who hadn’t been unlucky enough to get caught on camera.
Anders ambled over glancing at his notes. “Mid-thirties, white male. Witness reports range from hefty to huge. Last seen at Pier thirty-one, although seems to be roaming.”
“What’s a ten-fifty?” Ava asked again.
“Disorderly conduct,” Luc said, already moving toward the door.
“Intoxicated?” Lopez asked Anders, following Luc.
Anders shrugged. “Undetermined.”
Ava was hitching her bag over her shoulder, trotting along beside them. “I’m coming.”
Luc halted and turned, putting a hand against her chest to stop her forward movement.
A mistake.
His hand was high enough to keep his fingers out of reach from her more interesting parts, but he could still feel her heart hammering against his palm all the same.
It was…
Shit, she really couldn’t come with them. He couldn’t be near her and think straight.
Luc jerked his hand back. “You. Stay.”
“Which would defeat the purpose of me being here, wouldn’t it? I’m your shadow.” She pushed his wrist aside. “Learn how to deal with it.”
“I need to do my job, Sims,” he said as she moved past him to follow.
Her spine straighter. “And I need to do mine.”
“Luc, we need to move,” Lopez called from the door. “She can wait in the car if the guy’s out of hand.”
Luc opened his mouth to protest, when Anders broke in with one more detail. “There are also reports of ID.”
Luc and Lopez groaned at the same time, both heading toward the door.
Ava followed, and this time Luc let her. Maybe he could use her nosiness against her.
It was time to let Sims see just how unsexy this job could be.
CHAPTER SEVEN
So, apparently, there was a naked man running up and down Chelsea Pier.
Well, not a totally naked man. Ava had overheard Lopez questioning an elderly couple, and according to them, the perp still wore his too-small white tank top and beat-up leather sandals.
But the crucial, um, bits of him were apparently flopping out there for all to see.
And judging by the old lady’s hand motions, flopping was unfortunately literal.
Ava stood near the car where Luc had curtly told her to stay put. She didn’t see what the big deal was. Not like she hadn’t seen a naked man before.
Well okay, it had been a while.
Her eyes found Officer Moretti as he interviewed a couple of runners, her eyes taking in wide shoulders and tapered waist.
He was taller than average, but there was nothing lanky or gangly about him. His standard-issue uniform did little to disguise the clench and release of muscles when he moved, and her mouth went dry as she imagined her fingers unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off sculpted shoulders to reveal what she was about 90 percent sure would be a flawless six-pack…
Ava shook her head to clear it.
Okay, so maybe it had been a long while since she’d seen a naked man.
But she hated it was Moretti who made her remember that her last date had been…
When exactly?
Three months? Six?
Why couldn’t it be Officer Lopez who made her a little crazy? Luc’s partner was drop-dead gorgeous, and a hell of a lot more charming than Moretti.