Whoops.

  She tamped that down quick enough and hiked her chin toward the opposite side of the island from where she was working. “Well, if you want something to do, you can help me chop the carrots while I finish these onions and celery. There’s a knife in the drawer there.”

  “Uh, sure.” He found the knife, then grabbed a carrot. “So, do you cook much then?”

  “Sometimes,” Mattie said. “I like to cook. It relaxes me.”

  “That’s good.” He frowned down at the granite countertop as he chopped, using the same technique she saw top chefs on TV use—fingertips tucked in, blade moving fast. Impressive. He was lefthanded too, she noticed. “I like to cook too. I’ve got a few specialties I’m good at.”

  “Yeah?” Mattie said, her tone teasing. “And what might those specialties be, master chef?” she asked, expecting him to brag about how he dressed up mac and cheese by adding ketchup, or something like that.

  “Oh, nothing fancy.” He shook his head. “Moussaka, souvlaki, baklava. That sort of stuff.”

  “Wow.” Not what she’d expected. She blinked at him. “Those sound pretty fancy to me. How’d you learn to make them?”

  He grinned. “My grandparents owned a Greek restaurant when I was growing up. I worked in the kitchen as a short-order cook in high school.”

  “I’m impressed.” It felt good, bantering with him like this. Easy. Normal.

  “Ouch! Dammit.” Greg swore softly, then stuck the tip of his index finger in his mouth.

  “Oh, no. What happened?” Mattie immediately switched into full-mom mode, rushing around the island to grab his hand. “Did you cut yourself?”

  “Just a nick,” he said, his brows drawn together. “Hurts like hell, though.”

  “Here.” She led him over to the sink and flipped on the water. “Rinse that out good while I get the first aid kit.”

  He did as she asked and Mattie was back in thirty seconds to set the stuff out on the counter. Alcohol pads, antibiotic ointment. Bandages. She’d been through this enough times with Liza to have it down to a science. As evidenced by the pink dinosaur Band-Aids. Crap. Well, it was better than nothing at this point.

  “Okay.” She turned off the water, then carefully wiped his fingertip with a clean gauze pad. “It doesn’t look too deep, which is good. No stitches required.”

  “Jeez. I’m sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

  “Why?” She laughed. “I cut myself all the time. Don’t feel bad.”

  Greg shook his head. “It’s just that I’m still new at chopping with my left hand.” At her curious look, he continued. “After my right arm got injured in the military, I had to retrain myself to do everything lefthanded. Most of the time, I’m fine. But, every once in a while, muscle memory takes over and I forget. I try to do something with my right hand that it can’t really handle anymore, and then—” He shrugged. “It doesn’t usually end well.”

  Mattie set the gauze pad aside and grabbed the ointment, suddenly more aware of him after he’d shared that with her. She couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through and how difficult his recovery must’ve been, relearning everything over again. Especially for someone like him, who’d been in elite training and was used to being able to rely on his own strength and skill. She honestly hadn’t noticed anything wrong with his right hand at all, so he’d done a good job compensating for it. Without looking up at him, she applied ointment to the cut then wrapped it in two Band-Aids, to make sure it stayed secure before letting him go and turning away. “You’re all set.”

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling at his pink tipped finger. “You should be a doctor or something. Didn’t hurt at all.”

  Heat prickled her cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from awareness of this sweet, wonderful man who was helping her keep her job and who seemed to get along great with her kid too. Greg almost seemed too good to be true.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, not paying attention as she finished packing up the first aid kit and started back toward the bathroom, only to run smack into Greg’s solid warm chest. “Oh, sorry.”

  “No, my fault,” he said, their gazes locking, and time seemed to slow. Mattie found herself lost in those warm brown eyes of his, the slow rhythm of his breath, the faint hint of sandalwood from his aftershave. It had been so long, too long, since she’d been attracted to a man like this, and it felt weird and wonderful, and scary as hell. For the past few years, she’d rarely dated at all, wanting to make sure that nothing would take her away from focusing on herself and Liza. But now this gorgeous man was here and the lonely yearning inside her for more refused to be silenced any longer.

  Maybe Greg was different. Maybe he wouldn’t resent her for being a strong capable woman able to take care of herself like her ex did. Maybe Carter was right.

  Maybe I do deserve this.

  Greg blinked down at her, seemingly as dazed as her by the electricity sizzling in the air between them. “Sorry,” he murmured, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her lips then back again.

  “For what?” she whispered.

  “For getting in the way,” he said, his warmth surrounding her, penetrating through her sweater to her skin beneath like a physical caress. Her knees wobbled. “I’m…distracted.”

  Mouth dry and heart racing, she asked, “By what?”

  “You,” he said, so quiet she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been paying attention.

  Unable to resist any longer, Mattie went for it. Rising on tiptoe, leaning in, closer, closer, closer still, until their breaths mingled and she could see the dark shadow of stubble beneath his jawline. She wondered if tasting it would tickle her tongue like she imagined it would. Time to find out.

  But just as her lips brushed his, Greg went stiff against her, and not in a good way.

  Mattie pulled back slightly and looked up at him, frowning. His expression was unreadable, distant, and…oh God. She’d misread the situation. Stomach sinking and heart in her throat, she stepped back and tried to apologize. “I’m, uh, sorry, about—”

  Just then his phone buzzed, and Greg pulled it out to scowl at the screen. “It’s the alarm at the museum. I need to go check on it. Excuse me.”

  He left without another word, leaving Mattie behind to wonder what the hell had just happened and how she could’ve been so wrong.

  5

  By the time Greg reached the museum across the property, the alarm had stopped.

  That wasn’t good.

  Because the only way it would’ve stopped was if someone inside had entered the passcode and shut it off. Except hardly anyone was supposed to have the passcode—and none of those people should have been inside. Dammit. He reached down and pulled his gun from his waist holster and clicked off the safety. He’d deal with the issue of the passcode later. All that mattered now was figuring out who had entered the museum. If the intruder was still in there, they’d regret their decision. Slowly, he walked up the front stoop and stood beside the entrance, leaning slightly to peer through the glass to scan the foyer. No sign of anyone there. He punched the access code into the keypad he’d installed beside the doors, then went inside, weapon drawn and ready. Searched the first floor, including Mattie’s office, but found no one.

  Crrrreakkkkk.

  Upstairs. There must be someone upstairs. He took one step at a time, back to the wall as he kept an eye out for any hints of movement. The emergency lights stayed on twenty-four seven, though they were dimmer than the main lights, casting the museum in an eerie half-glow. By the time he reached the second-floor landing, his pulse pounded in his ears and adrenaline flooded his system. Funny how he felt way more comfortable chasing bad guys than he had been in that kitchen with Mattie, nearly kissing.

  He checked each room on the second floor before finally ending up in the bedroom that he was using while on this case. He found no sign of anyone else there. Shit. Greg clicked the safety back on and re-holstered his gun. Then he headed back downstairs to the room he was using as an office, and went over to his computer to check the alarms. Sure enough, the alarm had been triggered by someone opening the door, just as it was supposed to. That was when the alert had been sent to his phone. But then the intruder had shut the alarm off. It didn’t make any sense. The code he’d used had been one of Mattie’s choosing, so no one should’ve known it, let alone been able to guess it. He’d purposely hidden the keypad in a spot that was accessible but very difficult to spot so no one but himself and Mattie could find it. The only way someone could have gotten to the keypad that quickly was if they were an expert at hacking alarm systems, they were told where to go by either Greg or Mattie, or they’d seen him install it.

  He slumped down in his chair and closed his eyes. Greg hadn’t talked. He knew Mattie wouldn’t have either. So, who had been around who could have seen him install it? June had been there for her usual volunteer hours, but it seemed ridiculous to suspect her since she’d seemed like such a nice older lady.

  He sighed. Or, maybe, Mattie did just let it slip somehow. Shit happened. And she didn’t exactly have any training on operational security. It was a small town, the kind of place where people kept their doors unlocked. She might not understand how cautious she needed to be, even around people she felt she could trust.

  Fuck.

  Greg scrubbed a hand over his face, then pulled out his phone to text Mattie as he went to make sure everything was locked up tight again.

  Everything checked out fine. No intruder.

  He reached the front entrance and stopped. Briefly considered going back to her house, then reconsidered. No. After what had happened in the kitchen, he couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Mattie. He did. Too much. That was the problem.

  Pissed off, mainly at himself, he told Mattie that he thought it best to stay in the museum now to make sure whoever had been here before didn’t return, then went back upstairs to bed, mad and hungry.

  Man, civilian life sucked. He’d never once had to worry about one of his SEAL teammates trying to kiss him all the sudden. Never had to worry about little old ladies like June being his potential enemy either. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this job after all.

  The next morning, Greg was up early, mainly because he’d slept like crap the night before. Tossing and turning, replaying those moments in Mattie’s kitchen on endless loop, wondering what would’ve happened if his phone hadn’t interrupted them.

  Shit.

  After a shower and shave in the small bathroom attached to his room, he got ready, then headed downstairs, thinking he’d get a head start on the day. As soon as possible, he wanted to talk to Mattie, to find out if she’d talked to anyone about the alarm system. Because if not, then they needed to look into June and the other volunteers as possible leaks or culprits.

  He stopped in the break room first to grab a much-needed cup of coffee and reminded himself to stay calm and hold on to his temper. Most likely Mattie hadn’t talked to anyone. And if it turned out June was somehow involved, the explanation could be as innocent as that she’d just let it slip to the wrong person. The women did love to talk and gossip, that was for sure. It was hard to believe June would’ve done something intentional to hurt Mattie. The two of them were friends, as far as Greg knew. So yeah. He needed to calm down and think rationally about it all.

  Greg was feeling pretty good about being able to stay calm and rational right up until he caught sight of Mattie in her office. At first glance, sense memories of the previous night took over, reminding him how close they had come to a kiss. And his thoughts about kissing her were not calm or rational. Damn it, he needed to stay focused on the case. So without any finesse at all, he found himself blurting out, “Did you say something to anyone about the security system? Let something accidentally slip?”

  “No.” She glanced over at him from her computer screen, eyes wide and innocent. “Of course not. I know better than that. I would never say anything—” Greg’s shoulders started to relax “—except to people I was sure I could trust.” And there was that tension back again, even stronger than before.

  “So you did say something to the people you trusted?”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted. “I had to explain things to the other volunteers. Sometimes they’re here without me, and I needed them to know what to do if the alarm went off, or if they needed to close up the place for the night and make sure the sensors were set.”

  Greg sighed. He understood her reasoning, but that expanded the list of who knew—and who could have let something slip, accidentally or deliberately. “So just the volunteers, then? There’s twenty of them, right? I’m going to need to talk to all of them to find out if they’ve discussed the security arrangement with anyone. Whoever broke in last night knew more than they should have.”

  “I also told Herman,” she said, sounding a little less sure of herself.

  “Herman?” Greg repeated, feeling a tension headache coming on.

  “He does the groundskeeping,” she explained. “He comes by on days when the museum is closed, so if an alarm went off when he was around, he’d be the only person to hear it. I wanted him to know what to do.”

  “And those are all the people you told?” Greg pressed.

  Mattie squirmed in her chair, avoiding eye contact. “My friend Carter stopped by to drop something off for me, and I might have mentioned it to him.” It was clear that even she knew that this was a choice she couldn’t really justify.

  He crossed his arms, his SEAL instincts on full alert after hearing another man’s name because this was all about the job. Totally. “What exactly did you tell this Carter person?”

  “He was worried that you might be cheating me since I was paying for this whole system, but it didn’t look to him like anything new was in place. I pointed out a few things to him, just to show him how thorough you’d been, even if the devices were discreet. That’s it, though—I didn’t give him the codes or anything like that.”

  So basically, she told half the town. She might as well have taken out an ad in the newspaper.

  “Jesus, Mattie!” Greg said, the already frayed tether on his temper snapping. It might’ve come out fiercer than he’d wanted, given her wince, but dammit. This was important. She needed to take it seriously. “What about the codes? Did you pick one at random, like I told you?”

  “Yes,” she said, then looked away. “Okay, maybe not completely random. I needed to be able to remember it, at least. But I didn’t pick anything directly connected to me or to the museum. I used June’s anniversary date.”

  “What?” Astonished and angry, Greg just blinked at her a moment.

  “I’m sorry, okay?” Mattie slumped back into her seat, looking a bit sheepish. “Sometimes June gets here before I do in the mornings, and so I needed the code to be something she could remember.”

  “Perfect.” He rubbed his thumb and index finger down the sides of his mouth, then turned away. “So we have a code that basically anyone could guess which means we’ve got no security at all.”

  “Everyone doesn’t know it. Just you and me and June,” Mattie said, crossing her arms.

  Greg shot her a glare, then shook his head, shutting her up. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, hands on his hips as she stared down at the floor. “This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Giving that code to June—and picking a date connected to June, who everyone knows is a volunteer who’s usually here in the mornings—means you’ve undermined my job. If you can’t take this seriously, then why should I?”

  Mattie sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. And I do take this seriously, I promise. The code thing was my fault, I admit it. But I didn’t think mentioning the new security system to everyone who works here and to my friend who’s just looking out for me would hurt anything. I’m sorry.” Then her shoulders straightened and she looked him in the eye again. “Of course I want you to tell me if I’m doing something to make your job harder. But yelling at me after the fact and calling me names doesn’t do either of us any good. I’m not here for you to vent your temper on. Is that agreed?”

  Greg felt an unaccustomed burst of shame. “Yes, agreed,” he said. He really shouldn’t have lost his temper like that. Fixing the problem was what mattered—not making Mattie feel like shit. Or worse, making her afraid of him. He was glad that she’d stood up for herself.

  “Are you really that upset about the security system?” she asked next. “Or are you angry about something else?”

  “What else would I have to be mad about?” he asked, confused.

  “Look.” She sat forward, resting her arm on her desk. “I know I misread the signs last night in the kitchen when I tried to kiss you, but you don’t have to worry. I won’t do it again. And I won’t let it interfere with anything here at work. You have my word.”

  Well, that set him back a step. Dammit. He’d intended to forget about last night and put it behind them, but maybe she was right. Maybe clearing the air was the way to go.

  He made sure the door was closed, then took a seat across from her in front of the desk. Dang, this was harder than he thought. His chest felt tight and his throat was as dry as a bone. He managed to croak out, “You didn’t misread things.”

  Mattie blinked at him for a moment. “What?”

  Cringing, Greg closed his eyes. “You didn’t misread the signals last night, okay? I like you. A lot. More than I should.” He inhaled. “But I’m not in a good place right now for any kind of romantic relationship. And even if I was, my first duty here is to the job. I need to catch whoever’s responsible for these hauntings and threatening the life you’ve built here for yourself and Liza.” He raked a hand through his hair, then hung his head. “That’s why I didn’t let you kiss me last night. And I’m not mad about that, okay? I’m mad because security protocol is important. That’s the only way we’re going to catch the person responsible. Got it?”