Joy nodded. “Not at all.” Turns out he came with a warning label, after all—but at least he was up front about it. “As long as you’re happy—”

  “I am,” Brennan said. There seemed to be effort to his smile now. “I’m happy.” He shook his head. “This has to be the weirdest first date conversation I’ve ever had.”

  Joy blinked at him, somehow managing to not fall out of her chair. “This is a date?”

  “Let’s just say this is the possibility for a date. It’s a Schrodinger’s date.” He arched an eyebrow. “Is that okay?”

  “Well, you did just tell me that you don’t do relationships, so I kind of thought this was less a date and more you just trying to get me into bed, and then we’d probably never speak to each other again,” Joy said earnestly. “I still haven’t decided if that’s going to work out.”

  Brennan’s face went through a fascinating cycle of emotions at that. Surprise, of course, at how blunt she’d been, but then a smile of sheer and utter delight that made her heart want to stage a two-act Broadway musical. And then, just as Joy started to recover, his lips curved into a grin that was pure heat and want. “Well, I hope you’ll tell me if you do,” he returned, and holy hot damn. He wanted her. He wanted her.

  “You’ll be the first to know.” Joy managed to get the words out, chewing on her bottom lip as she tried to sort out the implications. The possible consequences. But then his gaze dropped to her mouth, and the look of hunger on his face overrode all her logic. “But I am celebrating.”

  Joy pulled the tie out of her hair and raked her hands through it quickly as she stepped into the bar. This was silly, she told herself. She was being completely ridiculous, loitering at a bar in the hopes that the cute guy she’d slept with last week would be there.

  That night with Brennan had been amazing. More than amazing. It had been the best sex of her life. But it was more than just the incredible, mind-blowing, bone-melting sex. He’d been kind, and Joy had experienced enough unkindness to appreciate that when she found it. He’d been funny, too, and it had done her in. How could any woman hold up in the face of all that dreaminess and not start, well…dreaming?

  He was also honest, she told herself, not for the first time. They’d both agreed it was a one-night thing. They hadn’t even exchanged numbers. And yet here she was, heading into the same silly gin bar, hoping they’d run into each other again. Hoping against hope that… That what? He’ll take one look at you and change his mind about relationships? Realize you’re meant to be?

  Joy stopped just inside the bar, feeling the embarrassment hot and prickly on the back of her neck. This was so stupid. What was she even doing?

  She turned to go—and that’s when she saw him. Brennan was sitting at a small table by the stage. And he wasn’t alone. He was leaning forward, chatting with a strikingly hot redheaded woman. Smiling that same gorgeous smile, just the way he’d smiled at her last week. The way he probably smiled at every woman who caught his eye.

  She couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in her chest as she turned to go, even as she told herself this was okay. Better than okay, it was a good thing she’d seen this—that she’d been confronted with this wake-up call. Time to get her head out of the clouds and accept that there was no fairy tale ending waiting for her. She was on her own because that was how she was supposed to be.

  Joy turned and headed out of the bar. Thank goodness he hadn’t seen her.

  1

  Margot didn’t look up from her computer as Joy strode into her office, but she did pull her headphones down to hook around her neck, which was about as welcoming as Margot got during working hours. “So? How’d it go?”

  “Exactly the way we expected.” Joy set the coffee she’d grabbed for Margot beside her on her desk, then dropped her bag down on the floor with a thunk. She’d spent most of the morning at an investors meeting. Joy usually jumped at the chance to talk numbers, next steps, and long-term projections, but this meeting… “They want us to officially launch soon. Like next week soon. I was able to convince them that we should stick to the original schedule,” Joy added, before Margot could protest. “They’re just really excited about all the buzz we’ve been getting. The number of downloads has been skyrocketing after that last segment on Hot Talk, Florida.”

  “Good. That gives us some more time to work out what the hell is going on.” Margot spun around in her chair to face Joy, effortlessly snagging the coffee cup as she turned. The fact that she’d turned away from her computer for this discussion spoke volumes about how seriously she was taking it. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs on the cluttered coffee table in front of her. As the second-most senior person in the office, Margot had snagged the only other private room in their wing of the building—only slightly smaller than Joy’s I’m the head of the company office. It might have made a better impression if the workspace had projected “cool professionalism” rather than “college dorm room clutter,” but Joy wasn’t about to argue with Margot’s organizational habits—not when she was the most skilled, dedicated employee Joy had. “And what did they think about your theory?”

  Joy slumped into a seat across from her, weariness flowing through her in waves. Talking to people always left her drained and irritable, especially when they weren’t really listening to what she was saying. Factor in the sixteen-hour days she’d been putting in at the office recently, and it was no wonder she felt so exhausted. She’d been sleeping like a log lately, crashing as soon as she hit the bed and then having to drag herself out from under the covers every morning. Trying to launch an app was exhausting. “They didn’t take me seriously. Charlie was a little worried, but he’s a bit of a cinnamon bun about everything. Victoria thought I was being paranoid. She said, and I quote, ‘Miami is a big city, sweetie,’ and insisted that there are a lot of break-ins all the time—”

  Margot shrugged, conceding that much. “There are.”

  “And that five burglaries in the past week is nothing,” Joy continued, ignoring that, “even if all five happened to be our beta users. She was more concerned with getting the lawyers to confirm that there’s no correlation to our app, so we’re not vulnerable to any kind of lawsuit.”

  “Not a bad idea. What?” Margot said, raising her eyebrows at Joy’s look. “Either way, it’s still a good idea to cover our asses.”

  “I just know they’re related. Somehow,” Joy said. Ever since she’d noticed the pattern—the self-reported data from their users where several unconnected people mentioned break-ins to their homes while they were on the date organized by the app—she hadn’t been able to get rid of the spikey ball of anxiety and anger that had lodged just under her ribs. “I’m not just making this up.” Even though that’s exactly what the police told her when she’d gone to talk to them. She was left feeling like the girl in the horror flick who warned everybody to stay out of the basement. But that girl always got ignored, because otherwise there’d be no movie.

  “Of course, you’re not,” Margot said, matter-of-factly. “But you’re under a lot of pressure these days—getting Blind Love up and running, trying to handle all of this extra work with the investors yourself, and now shouldering the extra stress over these break-ins. You’ve been looking kind of run down lately—so you need help,” she said, holding up a hand when Joy sat up angrily. “Hear me out, okay? I have an idea. You know that guy I had a fling with about three weeks ago? The one with the hair.”

  “I have to be honest, Margot, I can’t keep track of them at this point,” Joy said.

  Margot grinned. “Fair enough. The thing is, he works at a private security firm. If you called him up, I’m sure he’d be willing to give you some advice on how to deal with this.”

  Joy hesitated, uneasy with the idea of imposing on a stranger’s time like that. “This isn’t really a private security issue. This is—I don’t know, a Rear Window-esque suspicion? Besides, you know I hate bothering people for free advice about their job.” She was currently the go-to free IT person for every last one of her mother’s friends, as well as half of her father’s amateur bowling league. Sometimes she was tempted to change her voicemail message to Have you tried turning it off and on again?

  “Yeah, but what other options do you have right now? You know this is just going to eat at you if you let it sit—especially if it ends up happening again.” Joy shuddered at the thought. She didn’t want another break-in on her conscience. What if someone actually got hurt this time—and she could have stopped it? “At least talk to him. And it’s not going to be a bother, trust me. This guy is a total superhero—almost too much so. He’ll jump at the chance to help you out,” Margot said, pulling out her phone and texting rapidly. “There we go.” Margot held up her phone so Joy could see the reply. “Tomorrow morning, 10 a.m. You can’t say no now, when he’s already said he’ll do it.”

  “All right,” Joy agreed. Besides, Margot was right, with her investors and the police all blowing off her concerns, she really didn’t have much of an alternative if she wanted to get to the bottom of this. “At this point, I’ll take any help I can get.”

  Joy pushed back the nerves fluttering in her stomach as she swung open the front door to the offices of Sentinel Security. The office itself was on one of the lower floors of a sleek, anonymous skyscraper downtown. Inside was just as sleek, with clean, modern lines in neutral tones. It was professional, but very masculine, and a little cold. She didn’t imagine they had any bright-haired employees with eclectic piles of clutter around their desks. And would it kill them to get a ficus?

  Fighting the urge to fidget with her scarf, Joy gave her name at the desk and was surprised when the receptionist immediately guided her into a conference room and offered her a coffee as she waited. She’d barely even had time to take in the view of the city when the young woman returned with a steaming mug.

  At least they had good coffee, rich and dark and velvet smooth. Joy clutched her hands around the mug and took a long, slow sip. Even if this Shawn guy laughed her right back out of the building, at least she’d have gotten some quality caffeine out of it.

  Joy glanced over—and then stared in shock as a tall, blond man strolled in, a familiar crooked smile on his face. “Brennan?”

  Brennan went still for a moment, his smile faltering. “Joy?”

  Well, at least he’d remembered her name. That was something. “Hi. How are you? Do you work here?” she asked, ordering herself to play it cool, even as she clung to her mug as though it were the last shreds of her dignity.

  “Yes. My two friends and I started this business after we left the SEALs. Are you all right? Did something happen?” Brennan asked, his expression instantly concerned.

  Joy hesitated, ignoring the flutters that stirred up in her belly. “I think so. It’s a little complicated. Um, I’m supposed to be meeting with Shawn Joseph?” And if she had to go over all of this, and deal with another round of okay, but are you sure? It’s probably just a coincidence she only wanted to do it once. And preferably not with somebody who’d been doing all sorts of deliciously obscene things to her the last time they’d been alone in a room together. Which she absolutely wasn’t going to think about.

  “Shawn had to run out, so he asked me to meet with you—but he said it was a favor for Margot?”

  “Margot is my friend/coworker. She’s the one who was with me at the bar that night,” Joy added awkwardly. “We needed a professional consult on something, and she thought Shawn might be willing to help us out.”

  Brennan nodded. The charming, smiling man who’d bowled her over more than a month ago had transformed into a serious, intensely focused professional. Still hot, though. He came around the conference table and pulled out the seat right next to her, turning it so he could face her. “What’s going on? Are you in trouble?”

  “Maybe? I’m not sure,” Joy said. She couldn’t help but think this would be easier if he was safely across the table from her. “This is going to sound strange, but—” She took a deep breath. “I think someone might be using my app to rob people.”

  “How?

  “I’m developing a dating app. I think I mentioned that the night we…” She cleared her throat. Real smooth, Joy. “We’re nearing the end of beta testing. We have a lot of people signed up, and our investors are pushing us to officially launch soon. Right now, we’re scheduled for that to happen in about six weeks.” Joy shook herself. “But in the past two weeks, five of our new users have reported returning home from dates to find that their homes have been broken into. Sometimes things have been stolen, but other times the places have just been trashed. I’ve spoken to the police, but they think it’s just a coincidence.”

  “And you don’t,” Brennan said, giving her an assessing look.

  “No.”

  “I’m sure that the police have told you that there are a lot of break-ins every day. Miami is a big city,” Brennan said, and somehow those words coming out of his mouth were even more disappointing than seeing him with that redhead.

  “Yes, and thank you for being at least slightly less condescending while saying that than they were,” Joy returned, her frustration getting the better of her. “I know that this isn’t a lot to go on; I know that there’s a lot of crime in this city and that any sample population large enough would probably include some people who’ve had a burglary recently. But my gut is telling me that this is too much of a coincidence to ignore. I can’t let this go, not when the next break-in might end with someone getting hurt.”

  “Okay.” Brennan put a hand on her arm. His fingers were callused and very warm, enough that she shivered, remembering the last time his hands had been on her. “I believe you.”

  Joy blinked at him. After the past few days, she’d been prepared for a lot more arguing. “You do?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “You’re really damn smart, Joy, and you don’t seem like the kind of person to screw around. If you say there’s a connection, then there’s a connection. So let me ask you,” Brennan continued, “do you have anything I could take a look at? Police reports? Security videos?”

  “I don’t have the police reports,” Joy said, fighting a flush at his casual compliment. This man had some freakin’ nerve, being this handsome and believing her and respecting her intelligence. “But I ran the numbers—and the timing. I’m not just pulling this out of thin air, Brennan. I can show you all of the data. It’s all in my office.”

  He nodded. “Shawn is really the computer guy around here, but I’d like to come by and take a look. If that’s all right with you?”

  The relief had her sagging in the chair. “Thank you.”

  2

  Brennan followed Joy into her offices, immediately feeling out of place. He was used to the Sentinel offices—which, he had to admit, looked very much like a group of guys had decorated it: all stark lines, neutral colors, and a modern, professional vibe. This place was at the completely opposite end of the decor spectrum. It was a lot smaller, barely one corner of a floor in an office building. But it was open and bright, with sunlight pouring in from the row of windows along one side. The walls were a sunny yellow color that instantly gave the place a warm and welcoming feel. There was one main area, with more of an open floor plan circled by a number of glass-walled rooms that mostly appeared to be meeting rooms plus two personal offices, and a small but fully equipped kitchenette off to the side.

  He did a quick headcount as Joy led him towards her private office in the back. It looked like about six or seven people worked here, tops. Brennan spotted the familiar shock of electric blue hair that had to be the infamous Margot in a private office towards the back, stretched out on a couch as she drew furiously on a tablet. A tall, tanned blonde woman chatted with a slim Asian man in a crisp Oxford shirt, his sleeves rolled up to show off a collage of colorful tattoos. As they passed by the kitchenette, Brennan noticed a young man with a sad-eyed puppy dog vibe refilling the coffee maker. He filed those details away in the back of his mind for now.

  Joy led him the rest of the way to her office, a narrow, rectangular room with one line of glass walls. There was a feeling of controlled chaos to it, the sense of an organized person who was too busy to keep everything as neat as they would have liked. Green-and-gold goldfish plants spilled out of pots lined up along one window, and there were two whiteboards completely filled with incomprehensible symbols. He saw one covered with different versions of a logo for Joy’s app, though it looked like after something of an evolutionary process they’d managed to pin it down to a stylized closed eye overlain with a heart.

  Brennan was surprised to realize he felt a little nervous, seeing all of this for the first time. He’d known, of course, that Joy was smart. That much had been pretty freaking obvious to him, from the very first minute they’d met. But taking all of this in, it made him realize just how many mental circles she could run around him. Brennan had never really thought of himself as an easily intimidated guy before now. After all, only the best got all the way through SEAL training—and on top of that, he’d made it through more dangerous missions and close calls in active service than he could count. But apparently women with hots and smarts had him off his confidence game somehow. At least this woman did. He’d have to make sure he didn’t let that distract him. He was here because he had a job to do, and that was all.

  “Okay.” Joy glanced around her office and wrung her hands together, looking more than a little nervous herself. But that undoubtedly had more to do with the circumstances that had brought him here than with Brennan himself. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Water?”

  “I’m good,” Brennan said, taking a seat on the streamlined blue couch along one wall. “Why don’t we go over everything you have so far.”

  She took a deep breath, then nodded. “I think I should start with how the app works. The short version is that it essentially sets people up on blind dates—”