She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
Because deep down, she was worried that the flowers had been pity flowers. He’d seen the way things were with Miranda. Had he gotten her the birthday flowers because he’d been worried that nobody would remember?
The thought chafed.
When a man like Officer Luc Moretti bought you flowers you wanted it to be because he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
Not because he felt bad for you.
Ava pushed the annoying thought aside and focused on the evening ahead.
She needed to be on her A game.
Ava would have preferred to simply meet Luc at his parents’ house, but since his parents lived on Staten Island, which she wasn’t at all familiar with, they’d agreed to meet at the ferry dock.
A quick glance at her phone showed she was fifteen minutes early, and she took advantage of the time to clear her head.
Or at least try to.
She wandered toward the railing of the harbor, leaning over as far as she could, staring into the murky water. There was a floating water bottle. A clump of hair or something nasty. A condom.
“Nice,” she muttered.
“You know, most people kill time waiting for the ferry by ogling the Statue of Liberty, not taking in the trash.”
Ava stiffened slightly at the sound of Luc’s voice, although it was blissfully free of its usual agitation. Pulling back from the railing, she turned to face him, seeing that his expression was also easier than usual. He even gave her a half smile when their eyes met, and Ava’s stomach flipped.
It was only then she registered that she was seeing him out of uniform. She’d seen him in jeans before, once, at the diner, but this time felt different.
It was intimate, probably because this time she’d been invited to see him like this, rather than crashing his free time.
It was as though she were seeing Luc Moretti the man, not Luc Moretti the cop.
And Ava the woman responded.
Alarm bells sounded. She ignored them.
He was wearing jeans, brown boots, and a long-sleeve gray T-shirt that made his blue eyes seem lighter than usual. The wind coming off the harbor messed his dark brown hair slightly, making him look completely approachable and harmless.
Ha.
Luc stuck his hands into his back pockets, rocking back on his heels as he studied her right back.
She’d agonized over what to wear, not wanting to go too casual for fear they were a dress-for-dinner family, but neither wanting to go with one of her usual dress-to-impress ensembles for fear she’d come off as trying too hard.
She’d opted for a cream-colored sundress and blue cardigan with strappy platform sandals. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail in an effort to look like the approachable girl next door, instead of hungry reporter after your family’s darkest secrets.
Ava hated herself for watching his face for a reaction to her appearance. Not that it mattered. Other than a brief glance-over, his eyes didn’t so much as flicker before he joined her at the railing, leaning over so that his weight braced on his forearms.
He inhaled deeply. “You know, I’ve been making this trek about every other Sunday for years now, and I haven’t once gotten sick of this.”
Luc gestured with his chin, and Ava followed his gaze to the far-off Statue of Liberty.
“I know some people think it’s a tourist trap,” he continued. “That real New Yorkers don’t care about stuff like that, or the Brooklyn Bridge. But I like to think it’s us locals that can appreciate it the most, you know? To have this sort of history in our own backyard.”
“Pretty romantic for a guy who spent the better part of yesterday patrolling Times Square,” she said, mimicking his posture at the railing.
He made a disgusted noise. “Times Square isn’t in the same category as the Statue of Liberty. Both are tourist magnets, but one is history. The other is…”
“Hell?” she supplied.