I ran to catch up to her outside the school she taught at. I had Becky run a background check on her so I could find out where she lived and worked. I figured it would be a little creepy to show up at her house, but work was good. There were other people around and she would feel safe.

I took in every inch of her as she turned toward me. She was short, maybe 5’ 3”, but she was so damn beautiful. She was curvy and had blonde hair in one of those pixie haircuts. It looked damn good on her too.

She turned and her eyes widened. She looked around quickly, so I followed her gaze, thinking she saw something suspicious. “What’s wrong? Is someone after you?”

“No,” she said incredulously. “Why would you assume that?”

“Because you were looking around, like there was danger or something.”

“Yeah, you’re the danger! Why are you here?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot in the coffee shop and you’ve been ignoring my calls-”

“Because I didn’t give you my number.”

“Well, I didn’t get it on our date-”

“We never had a date. Look, it was nice to meet you, but there’s nothing going on between us. We aren’t dating.”

I scratched the back of my neck, not sure why she was denying what I saw clear as day. “Okay, I can see how you would think that there’s nothing between us. I mean, high intensity situations cause stress on new relationships.”

“We’re not in a relationship.”

“But we could be,” I grinned. “See, I think you’re not really giving me a chance here. We had a connection back in that coffee shop.”

“What we had was some banter before I found out that you murder people for a living!”

I shook my head slightly. “See, that’s not entirely accurate. First, I told you that I worked in security, and I even told you that sometimes I took out the bad guys. I never lied about that. And second, I never ever murder anyone. I strategically take out people that should otherwise be dead or imprisoned because they’re really bad people.”

She stared at me dumbfounded and I grinned, thinking I had gotten through to her. “I don’t believe it.”

“You’re starting to come around, am I right?”

“Are you really this…obtuse?”

“Okay, I resent that. I’m not stupid. I’ll admit, there are some times that I can be a little…oblivious and it’s gotten me into trouble, but I know exactly what happened in that coffee shop and you do too. You can’t deny that we had something.”

“Yes, I can. We didn’t have anything in the coffee shop. See? I just denied it.”

“I object your denial,” I said firmly.

“What? You can’t just…ugh!”

“You’re so cute when you get flustered. I could just pick you up and carry you around in my pocket all the time.”

She glared at me and stomped past me to her car.

“So, should I pick you up tonight?”

“No!” She spun around, putting her hands on her hips as she stared me down. “I don’t want to go out tonight. In fact, I don’t want to see you ever again!”

She got into her car and slammed the door. I went over and knocked on her window. “Seven?”
​
She threw her car in reverse and squealed out of the parking lot. “Hey, this is a twenty mile an hour zone!” I shouted.

“So I figure we’ve got two options,” Tom announced after his first sip of coffee.

“You do?” She choked back a laugh that roll-with-the-punches-Tom had beaten her to it.

“Yep,” he said. “One, I still have a mountain of editing, so like we’ve been doing, we can work until it’s time for bed. Or two: We declare today a lazy day and lounge.”

His spoon clinked against his mug as he waited for her response.

“Funny,” she said. “I came up with three options as I was falling asleep last night.” He didn’t need to know she’d written them down and numbered them in order of preference in the Bullet Journal she kept on her nightstand.

“Excellent. Hit me.”

“Well, there’s plan A: we keep plugging away on our projects. Plan B: we fire up Netflix. Or plan C: we spend all day in bed, reading and napping.”

He quirked a brow at her. “In bed? Sounds heavenly.”

The words scorched the air around her. She hadn’t meant to say it like that, but it slipped out and now the image throbbed in her brain. Tom, sprawled across her bed, curly head propped on his hand while the other held a book. Setting it aside when he noticed her eyes drifting shut and then wrapping them both in a blanket. Napping together and waking to find his hand sliding under her clothes, seeking–

Her cheeks heated, and she reached for her coffee to halt her wayward thoughts. That wasn’t part of the plan.

“Different beds and different bedrooms of course,” she clarified, inwardly wincing at her prissy tone.
​
His hot gaze burned into hers for a beat longer than was strictly necessary before his mask slipped back into place and Friend Tom was seated in front of her once more. But was that relief she felt, or disappointment?

Sara and her divorce-attorney husband (yep, she sees the irony of their dueling professions) live in Illinois in a house full of books, cats, and pinball machines. Keep up with Sara by subscribing to her mailing list at http://www.sarawhitney.com/subscribe