“You need an app for that?” Brennan teased, though he was only half-joking.

  He saw Joy pause, as if she was bracing herself, but her smile stayed fixed in place. He had to give her credit for that. “Well, it is slightly more complicated than that, but people’s eyes tend to glaze over pretty quickly when I dive into the techno-babble. The important thing to know is that the first date is arranged through the app, and we aim to keep it to around half an hour. You know, grabbing a quick coffee or after-work drinks.”

  “But what if they’re really enjoying themselves?” Brennan asked, then grinned. “Sometimes it takes more than half an hour.”

  “The users have the option for that, of course, if they choose to. But the point is, the first date is the only one that’s set up through our app, and it’s designed to be for a limited window of time, so nobody gets stuck in an awkward position for long if the match doesn’t pan out. All of these break-ins have been taking place while the user is on the first date—timed during that exact and very brief window when these users are out of their houses to meet up. Even if they’re actually out of their houses for the entire day for work, they’ve all reported that the break-ins are happening during the precise time frame of the scheduled dates. Here.” Joy grabbed a laptop off her desk and settled on the couch next to him. Brennan leaned closer to see and then had to fight an absurd urge to bury his nose against her neck and just breathe in the scent of her. Where the hell was this coming from? He’d never crossed the lines between his professional and private lives like this before. Was it because they’d slept together? No, that couldn’t be it. He ran into former flings all the time, and he never had any trouble keeping his cool—even when they were actively trying to seduce him. What was it about Joy that seemed to slip so effortlessly under his guard? Shaking off the thought, he tried to focus on what she was saying. He wasn’t a teenager; he could keep his damn hormones in check and stay focused on the job.

  Joy shifted her cursor across the screen, and a few rapid clicks brought up an article from a local paper about a break-in that had taken place two weeks ago. “Sasha Weissman—that’s our client—left her house at 6 p.m., and the break-in occurred at six-oh-four. According to this, she’d spent most of her day at home, since she works remotely, and only left to go on this date. It certainly wasn’t part of her regular schedule, and anyone who’d been casing the place wouldn’t have had any reason to expect her to go out. Whoever broke in almost certainly knew she was going to leave right then, and waited for her.”

  Brennan nodded, taking that in. “When was the most recent robbery?”

  “This past weekend,” Joy said, rapidly pulling up another article. “Alyssa Wong was out of her house for less than an hour—the date didn’t go well. When she got back home, she found her dog running around the street. Someone had smashed a window to get in, and left the back door wide open when they bolted. Some personal items were destroyed, but her jewelry, TV, computer, and other valuables were all left behind.”

  “May I?” Brennan held his hands out for her laptop and then quickly scanned the article when she handed it over. If he was completely honest with himself, he’d been hoping this could be quick. Just check out the information she’d gathered, assure her that the police had been right and nothing was going on, and bid her a quick goodbye. It would have been better for both of them, given the way every inch of him had reacted to seeing her again. The way he was still reacting to her now. Except…

  “This isn’t a lot of evidence,” he began, trying to choose his words carefully.

  “That doesn’t mean nothing is happening,” Joy returned fiercely. “Look, maybe I am crazy. Maybe this is just all in my head. But if it’s not, if I’m actually on to something here and I just let it go, and then something really bad happens, I don’t know how I’ll live with that.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. Joy—” Brennan stopped mid-sentence as there was a ping from her computer, and a notification popped up in the corner of the screen. It looked like an email had just come in.

  The subject line was FUCK OFF.

  The blood in Brennan’s veins turned to ice. One glance at Joy told him that she’d seen it. Her face had gone worryingly pale. Still, she reached for the computer and gave him a steady look when he tried to hold on to it—as though he could protect her, somehow, from this angry email and anything else that might upset her. Which was even more absurd than the hormones. She was his client; none of this was personal.

  “It’s okay,” she told him, squaring her shoulders as she clicked on the new message that had just arrived. Brennan couldn’t help but admire the hell out of her for it.

  He noticed the pictures first. They looked like screen grabs off the street view of Google Maps, of a small, one-story house with an orange tree out front.

  Then he noticed the message.

  not hard to find out where you live, you fucking bitch

  those people deserved what they got and so will you if you don’t stop digging into shit and mind your own fucking business before I have to pay you a visit

  Brennan glanced at Joy. “Is that your house?” Judging from the look on her face, he didn’t have to ask.

  “Yes,” Joy breathed. There was a little color starting to come back into her face. Brennan put a hand on her shoulder, moving to support her before he’d even realized he was doing it, and Joy leaned into him for a moment. “It’s okay.”

  “At least we know for sure now that something is going on,” he pointed out. “Silver lining?” Brennan wasn’t exactly in the joking mood, but he got Joy to smile, easing some of the fear in her face, so it was worth it.

  “You could say that.” She gave him a pale smile. “I really am okay. Hell, Brennan, I’m a woman in tech, it’s not like this is my first nasty message. Safe bet it won’t be my last, either.” She made a face, but Brennan could see the strain beneath it. “At least he didn’t threaten to kill my cat. You should hear some of the stuff that gets tossed around the Death Squad servers.”

  “Who could’ve sent this to you?” Brennan asked, a little too sharply. The fact that she’d gotten threats in the past—and expected to get more in the future—was hardly reassuring. Knowing that just made him want to hunt each one down and teach all of those assholes a lesson.

  “Anyone.” Joy waved her hands, gesturing to the world at large. “It’s the internet, Brennan. But give me a little time, and I’ll see what I can dig up.” She pushed herself away, giving him an awkward smile as she carried her laptop to her desk.

  “Okay,” Brennan said, hating the feeling of not being able to do anything. Of not having an enemy he could see. “You do that. I’ll check in with the office, and then…”

  It was a big and then. What did come next? It was clear there was a real case here—and a real threat, the kind he was trained to assess and eliminate. But was he the right guy for the job? The problem was that he’d enjoyed their time together. A lot. Probably too much. Certainly a hell of a lot more than he’d enjoyed the fleeting nights he’d spent with other women—before or since. Brennan didn’t have many rules when it came to dating, but the hard and fast one was never stick around if you start to have feelings. He’d been way too tempted to call her the next day. Hell, that day after she’d gone home, he’d caught himself reaching for his phone half a dozen times before he’d remembered that they’d never exchanged numbers. And that was a bright red flashing sign to keep moving and not look back. The smart thing to do would be to get someone else to take this assignment. And yet something curdled in him at the thought of leaving her safety in someone else’s hands. She needed his help. Whatever else he was feeling, Brennan couldn’t walk away from her.

  “And then I’ll help you get to the bottom of this,” Brennan said decisively. He couldn’t put Joy in his past until he figured out exactly what it was.

  Not until he knew she was safe.

  3

  Violet met him just outside the Blind Love offices, looking fresh as a daisy and deadly as sin in a sleeveless white blouse and a sleek black pencil skirt, her blonde hair styled in a chic twist, and her makeup expertly applied, even though it was barely seven in the morning. She sidled over to him effortlessly in spite of her mile-high lipstick red heels, a cardboard tray of steaming coffees in one hand, and a brown paper bag swinging tantalizingly from her wrist.

  Brennan pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning on and flashed her his most charming smile. “What’s the story, morning glory?”

  Violet gave him a skeptical look over the top of her sunglasses. “The story is that this is really freaking early, Brennan. There are roosters who sleep later than this.”

  “And yet you still look fabulous,” he replied without missing a beat, watching her gray eyes light with humor. She was his favorite person to flirt with because he knew with absolute certainty that she’d never take it seriously. “A lot better than I do this early.” He glanced at the treats she was carrying. “Is that—”

  Violet leveled a dry look at him, but she held out the paper bag. “Cinnamon morning buns from Rosa’s? Why, yes, Brennan, it is. I also got a loaf of that dulce de leche sweet bread, but that’s for me and Max later,” she warned him in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “And dare I hope that one of those beverages is—”

  “A caramel latte? Of course, it is.” She winked at him playfully, passing the coffee over to him as they headed into the lobby and nodded in greeting to the guard stationed behind the reception desk. “Honestly, what kind of a friend do you take me for?”

  “The best kind of friend.” Brennan took a sip of the hot, sweet, creamy coffee and sighed in contentment. His brothers in the SEALs would probably never let him live it down if they knew how much he loved these things, but still—sometimes a guy just needed to treat himself. He took another indulgent sip, savoring the taste as Violet gave their names to the guard with a smile that instantly had the guy going red right up to his hairline. Violet often had that effect on the opposite sex. And sometimes the same sex. Really just people with functioning eyes, in general. Of course, for her part, she only had eyes for Maxwell, one of his partners at Sentinel Security, who was also absurdly in love with her.

  She glanced over at Brennan as the guard called up to the Blind Love offices to confirm their appointment, arching one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Only the one guy on duty, hmm?”

  Brennan leveled a knowing look at her. “Don’t.”

  Her eyes flicked expertly around lobby, taking in every detail. “And the coverage on the security cameras is laughable.” If caramel lattes were Brennan’s guilty pleasure, this was Violet’s. Minus the guilt.

  “Do you case every single building you walk into, or are you just trying to screw with me?” Brennan asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.

  Violet shrugged, completely unfazed. “It can be both,” she assured him, before turning her megawatt smile back on the hapless guard. Violet Schroeder was the most talented crook Brennan had ever met. She had almost uncanny abilities when it came to breaking and entering, undercover work, and getting into any place that was supposed to be off limits. All skills she’d learned from her years of training by her father, who was an infamous criminal. She was now a reformed thief and bona fide good guy, working full time as part of the Sentinel Security team.

  “So you like this woman?” Violet asked as they rode the elevator up to the Blind Love offices.

  “Yeah,” Brennan answered automatically, and then shook his head at Violet’s smirk. “It’s not like that. She just needs a favor, okay?” He cleared his throat, wishing he sounded more convincing. “And there is something going on,” he said, focusing his attention back to the issue at hand. “She’s right about those robberies being connected to her app in some way, and the cops aren’t doing anything about it. I’m just being a nice guy.”

  “You can do a lot better than nice,” Violet said pointedly, but Brennan was saved from having to come up with a response to that as the elevator doors opened.

  The office was mostly empty, but Brennan smelled coffee brewing, and on the other side of the office, through the glass walls of her office, he could see Joy moving around—checking something on her computer, striding over to tack up papers on a large board, her expression a study in fierce concentration. As they started heading in her direction, she turned and waved at them. Brennan felt the hum of excitement course through him as soon as they locked eyes, and realized he was smiling. It wasn’t his usual charm-loaded hello there smile, or even his professionally reassuring version of the same. He was just smiling, with no thought to it at all.

  And he then stopped short as a nondescript young man stepped out of the kitchen area, nearly colliding with Brennan and spilling his coffee down the front of his shirt. “Oh, shit, man, I’m sorry.” He’d been so busy looking at Joy he hadn’t even registered this guy at all. “Are you okay?” Brennan asked, immediately looking around for paper towels or tissues.

  He’d expected curse words, or at least a simmer of anger, but the young man just went still, looking down at the stain on his shirt for a moment. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumping in an obvious gesture of defeat. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

  “Here.” Violet offered him a napkin and her most brilliant smile. The young man frowned, taking the napkin to dab reluctantly at his shirt, seemingly impervious to her allure. Undeterred, Violet forged ahead with her charm offensive. “Do you work here?”

  The young man nodded half-heartedly. “I’m Todd. The intern?” he added, when neither Brennan nor Violet responded right away.

  Then it clicked. Joy had given him a list of her employees and what they did at the company. “Right. Todd Blake?”

  “That’s me.” Todd was a baby-faced twenty-something with an awkward sort of boy-next-door vibe. He was wearing an ill-fitting short-sleeved Oxford shirt in a hideous brown-and-white checkered pattern and a completely mismatched blue tie. The young man examined Brennan, and then Violet, his soft brown eyes enormous behind his large, round glasses. “You’re the Green Beret or something, right?”

  “Navy SEAL,” Brennan said shortly, ignoring Violet’s smirk. It was different, and yes, it damn well mattered. “We’re just here to consult with Joy on a security issue. So, uh, how long have you been working here, Todd?”

  “Just a month or two. It’s been great,” Todd added, plucking at his shirt awkwardly. “It’s a little weird having a female boss, but Joy really is the best in her field. Seriously,” he added, eyes lighting up a little, “you should see her work. The algorithm she developed for the app. And the lengths she goes to in order to protect her user data is just…it’s extraordinary.”

  Brennan nodded, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that he didn’t know the first thing about the technicalities of what Joy did here. “It really is. Uh, we were just going to talk to Joy.”

  “Right, sure. Her office is right over here.” Todd started to lead them over before Brennan could point out that he knew the way.

  Joy was crouched down by the coffee table, tapping away at her laptop, but she glanced up at the knock on her door. “You have some visitors,” Todd said, gesturing over his shoulder.

  “Right! Sorry, I got sucked in.” Joy gestured at the screen in front of her and stumbled to her feet, giving Brennan a warm smile. It only faltered slightly when she saw Violet step into the space behind him. “Hi. Thanks, Todd,” she added, turning her smile toward her intern.

  The young man’s apparently permanent frown softened a little as he nodded at Joy. “No problem. I, uh, was wondering if it would be okay if I ran home. Not for too long, I just need to change my shirt.” He gestured to the coffee stain with a long-suffering grimace.

  “Of course. You don’t have to ask that,” Joy assured him.

  “Thanks.” Todd nodded at them briefly, then left, drooping all the way out of the office.

  Joy turned back to them, and her returning smile promptly wiped all other thoughts from his mind. “Hi. I’m Joy,” she told Violet, offering her a hand to shake.

  “Violet Schroeder.” Violet gave Joy’s hand a firm but friendly shake, then offered her one of the remaining coffees from her cardboard tray. “It’s just a regular latte, since I didn’t know what you liked. Unless you hate these?” she added as Joy abruptly paled and put a hand to her stomach.

  “No, not at all. Thank you, it was really sweet of you to think of me. I’ve just been feeling a little off this morning, but I’m sure it’s just a lack of caffeine.” Joy took the coffee cup and waved them towards the sofa. “Why don’t you two take a seat?”

  “Violet’s with Sentinel also,” Brennan explained as they settled in. “She has some expertise in this area, so I asked her to come along this morning so we could get her take on the robberies.”

  “Oh?” Joy glanced at Violet, her eyes alight with obvious curiosity. “What kind of experience?”

  Violet smiled. “I used to steal things for a living.”

  Joy blinked at her. “You—I’m sorry?”

  “I might’ve put that a bit differently,” Brennan said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “but, yeah. She’s a reformed thief who now helps Sentinel Security stop people from doing what she used to do. I thought that her perspective could come in handy with your problem.”

  People tended to react in a variety of ways when they found out about Violet’s history, but generally none of them were positive, so Brennan was still a little surprised when Joy only grinned. “Well, in that case, I’m really glad you’re here. We need all the help we can get to try to get to the bottom of this mess. What did Brennan tell you about the situation here?”

  “He covered the basics,” Violet said, taking a sip of her own coffee before settling it on the table. “Series of robberies that suspiciously coincide with dates your users are going on. Minimal losses when everything’s accounted for, but significant damage to the premises.”