So why did it have to be Luc who reminded her that she’d been celibate for way longer than she’d like?
It’s not like Ava was one of those hyper-independent women who was determined to remain single at all costs.
Ava loved to date. Or at least she liked the idea of dating. That giddy anticipation of whether she’d feel it—that spark of, yes, maybe this could work!
Okay, so, admittedly, as far as expectations went, the bar was pretty low.
But Ava was no naive twenty-two-year-old college grad who thought the right guy was just around the corner. She’d kissed a lot of toads.
A lot.
She wasn’t at all sure her happily ever after was out there, so when it came to first dates, Ava was just fine settling for a maybe and decent conversation.
But even the maybes had been few and far between. For a city with several million people you’d think there’d be at least one guy she found attractive who didn’t bore her silly.
Ava sighed and readjusted her pony.
After this story, she’d put more effort into the dating scene. She loved her career—sometimes—but she didn’t want to be married to it.
Actually, she didn’t want to be married at all. Ever. To anyone.
As though sensing her gaze on his back—okay, his butt—Luc whipped his head around and his eyes clamped on hers.
Embarrassed to be caught staring, Ava jerked her gaze away. This was so not the time to be playing sexy-eyes with a grumpy cop.
Part of Ava’s job was knowing when people were at their limits, and Luc Moretti had been at his when they’d first arrived at the pier and he caught her taking notes while he interviewed a witness.
Whoopsie.
She’d been banished to the car.
But hey, bright side…at least now she knew what an ID was in cop-speak:
Indecent exposure.
It also explained why Luc Moretti had changed his mind about letting her tag along. He thought she’d be scared off.
Please. It would take a hell of a lot more than a flaccid penis on a disorderly drunk to scare her off the story.
She would, however, be omitting this particular cop-experience from her prime-time coverage.
And the story would be prime time. That had been the only reason Ava had agreed to do something so…scripted.
The network had been hard up for the type of feel-good story for the summer evenings after the featured farm in their farm-to-table, organic food series had gotten nailed on animal cruelty charges.
The higher-ups had been in a panic, and Ava had (stupidly, in hindsight) mentioned the local coverage of a hero cop video gone viral. Her boss had gone crazy for the story.
And as a reward, Ava had gotten first shot at it. This was it. Her make-or-break story. She knew it, Mihail knew it, her bosses knew it…
But Luc Moretti didn’t know it. Or perhaps more accurately, Luc Moretti didn’t care.
Ava slumped back against the car for a second before realizing it would probably get dirt all over her suit, and she jumped back before turning around and frantically trying to check out her own ass for smudges. Anchorwomen were supposed to care about these things.
Thank God Mihail wasn’t here. He’d be armed with another comment about how Gwen Garrison could wear a white gown at rush hour on the J train and walk away without so much as a speck of dirt on her.
Well Ava Sims wasn’t Gwen Garrison, and this whole fancy, polished thing was hard.
But she was determined to get used to it.
After confirming that she didn’t have brown streaks on her butt from the patrol car, Ava turned back around to see if Luc and his quick-with-a-line partner were wrapping up their 10-50-whatever so she could get in a few interview questions.
She wondered how long Lopez and Luc had been working together. She made a note in her spiral to find out.
Sawyer Lopez shared Luc’s same dramatic coloring, with dark hair and blue eyes, and she imagined the pair of them were like heartbreak on a plate for those women who liked the men in uniform thing.