“Hi, Doug! Hi, Holly.” A young boy’s voice rings clear as a bell. “Got any donuts for me?”

  Doug’s face lights, and he turns in the direction of the kid. “Hey, there, Owen! Your dad’s out taking care of a little business, but he’ll be back soon.”

  Owen Stone is not quite the spitting image of Aiden. His hair is darker, but he has the same intense blue eyes. He walks up to where I’m standing, and even though he’s a little boy, I can tell he’ll be a heartbreaker one day just like his dad.

  “Hi, Miss Bailey!” He skips up to where I’m sitting beside my desk. “Dad said you were the mayor’s granddaughter. Is that true?”

  “Please call me Britt.” I smile, sitting straighter as he skips around like an antsy little kid. “The mayor is in fact my grandmother.”

  “Do you know how to do magic, too?”

  Tilting my head to the side, I wrinkle my nose at him. “You know magic isn’t real, right? It’s all illusion and distraction and sleight of hand. The real magic is being able to divert people’s attention while you do something they don’t expect.”

  His blue eyes widen as I speak. “Show me!”

  I snort a little laugh. “I don’t know any magic, sorry.” His face falls, and I fumble for something to cheer him up. “I know a couple of card tricks. They’re like magic.”

  “Okay!” He jumps, and I stand, catching his hand and leading him to the break room.

  “I think I saw a pack of cards back here.” We pass through the desks, and I hear him skipping behind me.

  His voice is loud. “You’re friends with my friend Ryan’s mom!”

  “I am.” We enter the break room, and I walk over to lift the lid on a small box and take out a deck of playing cards. “I was there when Ryan was born.”

  “Really?” His eyes are wide.

  “Yeah, now check this out.”

  I spend a lot of time elaborately shuffling the small deck, cutting the cards, moving them back and forth. “The preparation I’m doing right now is part of the trick. It makes me look very skilled.”

  Owen’s wide eyes never leave my hands, and he nods, fascinated. “I don’t know how to shuffle cards.”

  “You need to learn if you’re going to do card tricks.” Holding the deck in front of him, I circle my hands around and take two cards off the top—but it appears I’ve only taken one. Bending them slightly, I show Owen the bottom card. “Remember this card.”

  “It’s the three of diamonds.”

  “Good.” I split the deck and return the card I’ve palmed to the top, then I split them again, using my thumb to take the top card away and fold them together. “Now… Is this your card?”

  The three of diamonds pops up, and Owen’s eyes bug. “It is!”

  He’s nearly shouting, and I almost start to laugh… almost. Years of training have taught me never to break character in the middle of a trick.

  “You did magic! You are like Mrs. Edna!”

  “Not really.” I smile. “Come here, and I’ll show you what I did.”

  It only takes a few minutes for me to teach the simple trick to him, cutting the cards, lifting two in your fingers, and bending them. It’s a little more difficult for him, since his hands are small, but he’s a fast learner. After a few tries, he’s doing it like a pro.

  “You just need to work on shuffling. The presentation is as much a part of the act as the trick itself.”

  “I try, but I kind of throw the cards everywhere.”

  “You just need to work up the muscles in your fingers.” Stepping back, I hold out my hands and announce, “Now the Magnificent Owen will demonstrate his skills!”

  He’s all ready to take the cards from me when a sharp, male voice interrupts us.

  “What’s going on back here?” My heart jumps, and I turn to see Aiden standing over us.

  He’s hot as ever in that uniform, but his gray-blue eyes are blazing. If it were possible for steam to rise out of his collar, it would.

  “Hi, Sheriff!” My tone is light, but the waver in my voice gives away my nerves. “Where have you been?”

  “I rode out to the Jones place. What are you doing with my son?”

  “Britt taught me a magic trick, Dad! It’s so cool. She’s better at it than I am, though.” He tugs the sleeve of my jumpsuit. “Do it for him, Britt. Show dad the magic trick!”

  I hesitate, chewing my bottom lip. “It wasn’t really a magic trick…”

  “I thought you wanted to separate yourself from all that.” His tone is controlled anger, and I do my best not to fidget.

  “It wasn’t like that. Owen just asked if I knew any magic, and I didn’t want to let him down.”

  “You’re here to deal with facts. Not tricks. Not tarot. Not magic. We work in the real world, Miss Bailey, and if that’s going to be too difficult for you to remember, you need to let me know right now.”

  A knot twists in my throat, and the anger burning in his eyes has me on the verge of tears, which is so not happening.

  I blink away from his intense gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was overstepping.”

  “Don’t drag my son into your family’s nonsense.” His tone is painfully sharp, and I nod quickly, backing away.

  “I had no intention of dragging your son anywhere. I was only being friendly. I won’t make that mistake again.” I take a step back and crash into a chair, turning to catch it quickly before it hits the floor. “I’ll just head home now since it’s after five, and I need to check on Edward.”

  Before the first tear dares to fall, I’m hustling out the door and through the outer offices. Doug says something to me, but I don’t stop. Hurrying across the street, I keep my chin down, watching the movement of my shoes and dodging pedestrians until I make it to the neon purple sign for the Star Parlor.

  I duck around to the stairwell and quickly run up to my apartment. Edward is sleeping on the couch when I enter, and I go straight to my bathroom, gripping the sides of the sink and doing my best to catch my breath.

  I didn’t do anything wrong. It was just a silly card trick. There’s no magic in card tricks.

  Turning on the water, I scoop a handful and drink it. Then I dampen my fingers and press them against my hot cheeks.

  I’ve never had anyone glare at me with so much anger, like the grudges of twenty years were all descending on me as the scapegoat.

  My chest hurts, and I’m not sure if I’m upset he was so mad or if I’m upset it’s clear I’ll never be more than my name to Aiden Stone.

  As much as I want to distinguish myself, in his eyes, I’ll always be Britt Brewer Bailey. What I think is innocent or harmless is irrelevant, and as much as I’d like to avoid the things he hates, I have no idea where the landmines are hidden.

  CHAPTER 7

  AIDEN

  The room is so silent after Britt leaves, I can hear the people talking on the street outside. Owen stands in front of me, still holding the deck of playing cards. His blue eyes, identical to mine, are narrowed.

  “You were mean, Dad.” The excitement in his voice when I first arrived has turned to reproach, and I feel like a shit.

  I can still see the fear in her eyes. I can still see her running away from me like a rabbit from a wolf. I can’t argue with my son. I was mean, and I hate it.

  “I don’t like magic.” My voice is quiet, almost like I’m explaining my ridiculous overreaction to both of us.

  “I know.” His tone is little-boy impatience. “You tell me that at least twenty times a day.”

  “I don’t think it’s that much.” Rubbing my hand over the tightness at the back of my neck, I wonder how things went so off the rails.

  When we left the field today, I was impressed as hell by all she’d accomplished in only a few hours. She made my puny investigation look like child’s play, and I hated that I was going to have to eat crow and tell Edna she was right. Britt is a great addition to our team.

  She’s very professional with her work. She carefully documented every leaf, every misplaced stone, every stray cut in the soil. She sussed out a very promising lead, and I won’t be surprised if we have a suspect in custody by the end of the week.

  Then I came back and blew it all up over a silly card trick.

  “You have to go and tell her you’re sorry.” Owen puts his hand in mine, and pulls me towards the door. “It’s what you tell me when I do something wrong.”

  My throat tightens. “I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now. I was pretty harsh.”

  “Yes, you were.” He presses his lips together, nodding. “You yelled at her worse than you yelled at me that time I left the milk out on the counter all night.”

  “That was wasteful.”

  “I know, and she only taught me a card trick.”

  God, I feel so fucking stupid. I feel like I threw all my dirty underwear on the front lawn for everyone to see. Want to see me lose my shit? Teach my son a card trick. Jesus.

  “Maybe I’ll just talk to her about it tomorrow. Let her cool down first.”

  “When I jerked Maya’s ponytail for saying Zander wasn’t a real zebra, you said I had to apologize that day. You said if I didn’t, she’d think I meant it, and it would damage our friendship.”

  I look down at this smart little guy I’m raising. “You remember everything I say to you?”

  “Everything.”

  “Well, come on, then.” I exhale heavily.

  We enter the main office area, where Doug is packing up his laptop.

  “Hiya, Aiden, do you know what’s up with Britt? She ran out of here so fast… looked like she was about to cry. Was it something about the case?”

  A knot is in my throat, and I glance down, meeting Owen’s disappointed eyes. “We just ah… had a little misunderstanding. I’m taking care of it.”

  Dropping to one knee, I put my hand on Owen’s waist. “I have an idea. Would you be okay with going to Grandma’s for dinner tonight?”

  “Yeah!” he shouts. “She gives me chocolate cake for dessert.”

  “Perfect.” Standing, I catch Doug at the door. “Hey, man, would you mind dropping Owen by my mother’s place on your way home?”

  “Sure thing.” He holds out a hand to Owen. “Let’s go, Champ.”

  Owen scoops up his backpack and slings it over both shoulders. As he passes me, he gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Dad. Apologizing is hard, but Britt’s really nice. You got this.”

  I shake my head. “Thanks. When I get home, I want you to show me that card trick, okay?”

  “Okay!” He skips out after Doug, and I glance at the clock.

  It’s just after five. If I hurry, I can run home, take a shower, and change into civilian clothes, hopefully before she has time to eat anything. I scoop up my phone and text my mom what’s going on, then I jog out to my waiting truck.

  The Star Parlor sign glows purple in the twilight as I park on the street in front of her apartment. It’s like a warning sign: Dangerous territory, turn back. But my son is right. I have to apologize for overreacting and being a dick at work.

  I’m technically Britt’s boss, and the way I acted wasn’t just rude, it was unprofessional. This dinner is a nice gesture, nothing more. It’s not an idea borne out of the persistent interest humming in my veins… like I’ve crossed a desert and found the first glimmering pool of water waiting on the other side.

  Fuck that.

  It’s an olive branch.

  I open the glass outer door and climb the wooden stairs to her apartment above Gwen’s studio. Hesitating, I hear the soft strains of music coming from inside. More Shania Twain. It sounds like “Any Man of Mine.”

  Glancing down at my jeans and navy tee, it’s time to do this. I lift my fist, ready to knock when the door swings open, and a piercing scream throws me into a defensive crouch.

  “What’s… the fuck?” I shout at the same time Britt yells, “What are you doing?”

  Taking a step back, I lean against the wall, placing my hand on my clenched stomach. “Dammit, Britt, you scared the shit out of me.”

  “I scared you?” Her voice is loud, and she’s standing there in plaid boxer shorts and a tank top with no bra. “What are you doing lurking outside my door?”

  I avert my eyes from her nipples piercing the thin cotton, looking down at her smooth, muscular legs and red toenails. This is not how I expected this to go.

  “I’m sorry.” Clearing my throat, I lift my eyes to hers and push off the wall, stepping closer to where she’s standing in the doorway. “I came over to apologize for the way I acted this afternoon.”

  Thankfully, she crosses her arms over her breasts. Her hair is piled on her head in one of those buns I don’t understand. It’s a big mess on her head, but it’s cute in a way that slides easily into sexy.

  She lifts her chin, and I drag my eyes from her sex hair to the traces of dampness around her lashes. Fuck, did I make her cry? It’s like a punch to the gut, and I scrub a hand over my mouth.

  “Damn, Britt, I acted like an ass, and I thought maybe you might let me take you to dinner to make it up to you.”

  Her chin pulls back, and she blinks several times, looking away from me. In her bare feet and hardly any clothes, she’s so small and vulnerable. It’s like I kicked a kitten.

  “I guess that would be okay.” She’s quiet, glancing down at her outfit. “I need to change and touch up my face and hair.”

  “Of course, whatever you need to do.” I take a step back. “I was going to suggest we go to El Rio if you like Mexican food.”

  “Luckily, I do.” Her arms are still tight over her bare breasts, which I can’t seem to get out of my brain. “El Rio is the only restaurant in town.”

  “Should I wait?” I look around the small landing in front of her door.

  I happen to know the apartment inside is a studio with a small bathroom. No privacy there.

  “Why don’t you go ahead, and I’ll meet you in ten minutes. It’s close enough to walk.”

  I look down the stairs, thinking I don’t want her to walk alone or enter the restaurant alone. “Text me when you’re ready, and I can meet you halfway.”

  Her nose wrinkles like she’s thinking of a humorous comeback. Instead, she simply says, “It’s okay. I’ve been walking around Eureka a long time.”

  “I’ll walk slow.”

  “See you in ten.” She shakes her head and turns to go back into her apartment.

  Just before she closes the door, I catch another glimpse of her cute little ass, and my fingers curl. Yep, I’m officially that guy. I want to claim every part of her body.

  Clearing my throat, I descend the stairs slowly, thinking about being her boss, being seven years older than her, being the asshole who just bit her head off for being sweet to my son. It’s enough to get my thinking straight.

  Olive branch.

  Nothing more.

  El Rio is a typical Mexican restaurant with polished wood tables in the center of the dining room and round, vinyl booths arranged around the walls. The colors are vibrant and festive, key lime, lemon yellow, orange, and red.

  Spanish-language music is playing, and the crowd is small for a Monday—a few guys hanging at the bar watching basketball and a few people eating. The hostess said we could seat ourselves once Britt arrived, and I’ve been standing at the bar long enough to have a beer when I glance up to see her in the doorway.

  She’s dressed in blue jeans and that same white tank top, only with a bra this time, and her hair is down, hanging long around her shoulders. Her green eyes meet mine, and when she smiles, for a second, my brain kind of blanks.

  Of course, I get it under control by the time she closes the space between us.

  “I hope I didn’t take too long. I just threw on the first thing I could find.” Her face is so fresh with just a touch of something glossy on her full, pink lips.

  “You were perfect.” My reply makes her brow furrow, and I rephrase quickly. “I mean, your timing was perfect, and you look great.”

  Holding out my hand, I gesture to the room. “We can seat ourselves when we’re ready. Would you like a beer? Or a margarita?”

  “Oh…” Her eyes light, and she presses her lips in a mischievous grin. “Would it be bad to have a margarita on a Monday?

  “Nope. It’s Margarita Monday.” I turn to the bartender and order her drink and another beer for me.

  While we wait, I turn to her again, ready to face the music. “So I kind of overreacted this afternoon.”

  “Did you? I must’ve missed it. What happened?”

  Exhaling a chuckle, I drop my chin. “I was a dick, and I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, Owen was very disappointed in me. He suggested I head over right away and apologize.”

  Her smile turns sassy. “You added the changing clothes and inviting me to dinner parts all by yourself?”

  Damn, her mouth. “It seemed like more of the adult approach.”

  “I see. Well, Owen is a sweet boy. Where is he anyway?”

  “Having dinner with my mom, which made him very happy. Apparently, she serves chocolate cake with dinner.”

  “My kind of place!” She laughs, lightening the entire mood.

  My arm is propped on the bar, so close I could extend a finger and trace it along her skin.

  I don’t.

  The bartender slides our drinks across to us, and I ask him to add them to our tab. Then we walk over to a booth near a window.

  A busboy quickly places a basket of chips and two little ramekins of salsa, and a waitress stands behind him, waiting to hand us our menus.

  “I know what I want unless you need a minute?” I glance at Britt.

  “I’m ready!” She holds up her hands.

  We both order the steak soft tacos with a side of street corn, and the waitress cuts her eyes at us before making a note.

  “We didn’t even plan that!” Britt laughs, taking another sip of her margarita.

  I’m relieved she doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge about what happened earlier, and my two beers have loosened me up a bit.