And although he was tempted to snap back that it was only her that drew out this grumpy, unlikable version of himself, the truth was he felt a little ashamed of himself.
Like those assholes who disdained all law enforcement for life because of one “undeserved” speeding ticket when they were seventeen, Luc had been making similar stereotypes about the media based on his own desire for privacy.
Ava was right. She was just doing her job.
And he may not like it, but that didn’t authorize being a complete dick.
After Helen had delivered their breakfast, Luc picked up his fork and made a decision. He wasn’t going to bend over backward for her.
He still thought this story was bullshit.
But…
“All right, Sims. I’ll talk.”
She was about to take a bite of egg, but her fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Seriously?”
“Today only,” he said, liberally adding pepper to his dish. “Don’t be expecting the welcome mat at the precinct on Monday, and this isn’t a free pass to turn on the siren whenever you get hungry, and you still have to pay that parking ticket. But I respect that you have three hours of stupid television to put together. So for today…shoot.”
He half expected her to go all rabid on him, pulling out a notebook or worse, a recorder, and firing question after question, but she merely chewed her omelet and looked thoughtful.
“Thank you,” she said finally.
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled. “We’re having a moment, aren’t we?”
“Sims, if this is your idea of a moment, your social life must be seriously up a creek.”
“Speaking of social life,” she said, plopping a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth.
Here we go…
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
The question was more direct than he’d expected, and Luc had to remind himself she was asking as a reporter, not as an interested party.
“Nope.”
“Ex?”
“I’m twenty-eight. I should hope I had a couple exes under my belt by now.”
“But anyone serious?” She took a sip of coffee.
“I don’t do serious, Sims.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Ever?”
Luc shrugged. “Lots of cops don’t.”
“Because of the frequent brush-with-death thing?”
He was silent for a moment as he pictured Mike. And Mike’s funeral. Then he remembered Mike’s widow and son sobbing silently in the front row of the church…
His fingers clenched into a fist beneath the table, and he forced himself to take a long, slow breath. This was why Ava Sims was dangerous to him. It would only take a few well-placed questions, and the entire world would know that their hero-cop was so far from a hero it wasn’t even funny.
“Let’s just say I know a few too many cop widows—and widowers, for that matter—to ever put a woman I cared about through that.”
“But your entire family is cops. Surely they don’t all feel that way.”
“No,” he granted. “My parents have been happily married for over three decades. And my brother Marco is halfway to the altar already. The other two…hell, I doubt they could pay a woman to put up with them for life, so it doesn’t really matter.”
She opened her mouth as though to argue, but Luc beat her to it.
“Cops don’t make good husbands, Sims.” He softened the statement with a smile.
It was hardly the first time he’d had this conversation with a woman. Luc was always careful to set expectations upfront, but some women seemed to think they were the exception to the rule.
But Luc’s commitment to non-marriage was one rule he had no intention of breaking.
Ava surprised him. “No judgment here. Marriage is…” she paused, as though searching for the right word. “Crap,” she finished.
Luc washed a bite of bacon down with a sip of water, surprised by her succinct dismissal of marriage.
It wasn’t that he thought all women were secretly trying on wedding dresses in their spare time, but in his experience it was rare to run into a woman who was so openly anti.