Frisk Me

And though he was tempted to ask why…to know what made her tick, he took the easy path instead.

“Sims.” He let his eyes go wide in bafflement. “Did we just have something in common?”

She smiled, and it was a pretty thing, this genuine smile instead of the knee-jerk smile he was used to seeing from her. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal. So what else do you have for me? You’ve got until I clean my plate to pick my brain, because once I’m on duty, chitchat is off-limits.”

“Hold on there, cowboy, we’re not done with the prior topic just yet,” she said, nipping a corner of her toast with her perfect white teeth. “So you’re not looking to march down the aisle. I get it. But what does a bachelor cop’s love life look like?”

“What’s it look like? Lots of curvy blondes, mostly. Often naked,” he replied.

“Sounds very Beverly Hills brothel.”

He smiled at her tart tongue as he took his last bite of omelet. “Probably could make room for a skinny brunette who talks too much though.”

Ava pulled her napkin off her lap and began fanning herself. “Wow. With moves like these, how do you ever find time to sleep?”

“Seriously though, Sims, leave my love life out of the story, would ya?”

“But—”

“Look, I get it,” he said, his voice gentle. “People want to see that stuff. They want to know I’m half-smitten with a childhood sweetheart or ‘waiting for the right one,’ but I can’t give you that.”

She threw up her hands. “Well I can’t just say you’re a bed-hopping commitment-phobe.”

He frowned. “Why not? It’s the truth.”

“Which usually is what I’m after, but—”

His head snapped up at that little slip. “What do you mean that’s usually what you’re after? What’s different about this story?”

She lifted her hand and nibbled on her thumbnail before tucking it into her fist and putting her hand back in her lap. “I just mean that this is a big story. A lot of people will be looking at it.”

“Isn’t that the point of network television? Lots of people looking at it?”

“No, I mean, a lot of network people will be looking at it. My bosses.”

He searched her face, surprised to see the conflict there, even though he didn’t understand it. “And they’re expecting to hear about my love life?”

She chewed her lip, the nervous gesture at odds with her polished appearance. “Let’s just say a little romance wouldn’t hurt the story. They want something that’ll make the audience melt, you know?”

Too damn bad. The only secrets Luc had were the kind to make the audience hate him.

He reached across the table to pat her arm. “You’re a good reporter, Sims. You’ll find a way to romance it.”

“Maybe I’ll stick with the ‘currently married to his job’ thing. They don’t need to know that currently is actually indefinitely.”

“There you go. What else?” He held up his last piece of toast. My plate is nearly clean.”

“Tell me about college.”

“What about it?”

“Cops don’t have to go, and yet you and all of your brothers did. Sister too.”

Luc paused in his chewing, torn between admiration and annoyance. “You know, your tenacity is bordering on creepy.”

“Are you deflecting?”

He shrugged. “Of course not. There’s just not much to say. It was college. Dorms. Dorm food. Professors. Exams. Finals. Cute girls. I mean, I’d tell you that I was a decent student, but you’ve probably already tracked down and memorized my transcript.”

“Three point nine two; major in Econ. Not bad, Officer.”

He smiled in thanks at Helen as she cleared their plates. “But you want to know why I’d go if I didn’t have to.”

Her lips tilted. “Sort of.”

Luc leaned back in the booth. “Well, I’d like to tell you I was an incredibly driven eighteen-year-old, desperate to pursue my education, but the truth is it was all my mom.”

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