Author: Jill Shalvis

Ali slid out of the truck and headed to the bar with purpose.

“Go in low profile,” he finished. “Shit,” he muttered behind her when she didn’t slow down. He followed her inside and watched as she walked right up to the bar where Gus was sitting with a few other guys over beers.

Luke nodded to the guy behind the bar—Ford Walker, co-owner of the place, ex–world sailing champion and all-around good guy.

“Can I have a minute?” Ali asked the janitor.

The big guy smiled down at her. “Hey, Ali. Luke. Heard you two were a thing now.”

“Remember the other night?” Ali asked him.

“When I let you into Marshall’s office? Yeah.” His smile faded. “I’m sorry you got caught.”

“I didn’t steal the money,” she said, looking like steam might start coming out of her ears. Or her hair. The hair was pretty wild today, but he liked it.

He liked her. Way too much.

“Right.” Gus nodded adamantly at her. “You didn’t steal the money.”

“Can you tell me who else you saw in the hallway that night?” Ali asked.

“Well,” he said, scratching his beard, “just as I told the police, it was hard to keep track. That hall was busy as hell.”

“Could you give it a shot?”

“Sure. Mrs. Medina wanted to see the Lost and Found, which was in the storage closet. Then, while I was waiting on her, Ella came in to make a phone call in private. Only she ended up yelling at her sister, so it really wasn’t so private at all.”

“Ella?”

“From the post office. And then Aubrey came in to see why people were in the office to begin with, and she got all up in arms about it. And then there was Ted himself…” Gus blushed a bit at that. “But I suppose you’ve already heard…”

“That he had Melissa in there?” Ali asked politely.

Gus downed his drink. “Yeah. I didn’t know, Ali. I swear it.”

Gus’s mountain-sized friend snorted.

Luke agreed. As the janitor, nothing happened in that building that Gus didn’t know about.

“And you,” Ali said to Gus, “you were there with Callie, right?”

Gus went very still, only his eyes sliding to the giant next to him. “Uh, who told you that?”

“It’s what you told the police,” Ali said calmly. Except she wasn’t calm at all. Her eyes gave her away. Was Luke the only one who could see it?

Gus’s friend set down his beer and glared hard at Gus. “You were with Callie?” he asked. Actually, it was more of a shout.

“Now, now, Buddy,” Gus said quickly, raising his hands. “In all fairness, you did say you two were just friends, so—”

Buddy punched Gus in the mouth. “In all fairness,” he said.

Luke grabbed Ali and hauled her back just as the two men tumbled to the ground, Gus’s long legs taking out the two men on the other side of him.

“Hey!” one of them yelled. “You spilled my drink!” And then he jumped into the fray too.

His friend dove in as well, and pretty soon beers and fists were flying in a full-out bar brawl. Ford hopped over the bar to break it up, and Luke helped him separate the idiots from the idiots.

Afterward, Ali was staring at him. “Wow,” she said.

“What?”

“You just waded into the flying fists and yanked them apart like it was no big deal, like you didn’t even notice the danger.”

He could have told her that it was no big deal. He’d been in a lot worse danger than a damn bar fight, but she was looking at him all impressed, and it was kind of nice. He led her outside, where they ran into a woman going in.

Aubrey.

In a navy blue suit, looking elegant and chic, hair perfect, she looked startled to see them. “We got cut off on the phone,” she said to Ali.

“Yeah.” Ali slid Luke a glance. “Sorry about that. Listen, careful in there. It’s crazy tonight.”

Aubrey took a look at the bar’s entrance. “What’s going on?”

“A little fight,” Ali said.

“Seriously?” Aubrey pulled out her phone. “Did you call the police?” She turned to Luke. “Aren’t you the police?”

“It’s handled now,” Luke said. “How often do you work late?”

“A lot.” Aubrey gave him a wary look. “Why?”

“Just wondering if you’ve ever seen anyone else late in Marshall’s office.”

Aubrey was quiet for a beat. “You’re on vacation, which means you’re not a cop right now, right?”

“Right,” he said. Cop rule numero uno: be able to lie your ass off right to anyone’s face.

“So this isn’t official or anything.”

“Absolutely not,” Luke said without hesitation.

Aubrey nodded, then glanced apologetically at Ali. “I think it’s possible that Teddy’s been seeing someone else.”

“Besides Melissa and me?” Ali asked.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know,” Aubrey said. “I’d have told you before, but until you came into the office the other day, I really thought you and Ted were just roommates.”

Aubrey entered the bar, and Ali, looking a little deflated, fell silent. Luke took her hand. “Come on.”

That she let him lead told him it was time for more ice cream. So he took her to the pier and bought her a triple cone from Lance at the ice cream shop. Then he took her hand again. At this time of night, the pier was quiet, and once they walked past the arcade and Ferris wheel, they had the night to themselves. They walked in silence to the very end and stood there looking out at the ocean, lit by a streak of light from the moon. Water slapped rhythmically against the pylons. The sound always calmed Luke, and next to him, Ali let out a soft sigh.

“That got me nowhere,” she finally said, leaning against the railing, licking her cone like she meant business.

He tried not to stare and failed. Christ, he wanted her to lick him like that. “We knocked on some doors,” he said. “We shook things up.”

She turned to face him. “And now what?”

He stroked a finger along her temple, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for the sheer pleasure of touching her. Then he leaned in for a kiss. She tasted like chocolate and trouble. Big trouble. “We wait for the dust to settle.”

“We?”

“Yeah. We.” He let his hand fall from her. “But—”

“Yeah, I know.” She pushed away from the railing and started walking back to his truck. “It’s a short-term ‘we.’”

Chapter 11

It was two in the morning before Ali got Luke’s kitchen back together. She was heading to do the den next when she got her usual daily check-in text from Harper: Made good tips tonight! Next time you come home, dinner’s on me.

Ali managed a smile. Exhausted, dusty, and a little sweaty, she swiped her forehead and texted Harper back. Sounds good. How’s Mom?

The money you put in her account made her day. You okay? You don’t sound okay.

You got not okay from sounds good?

It’s in the tone…

Ali rolled her eyes. I’m fine…’night. Sweet dreams.

Don’t let the bed bugs bite!

It was an old mantra, and it made Ali smile again as she went back to cleaning up. Two hours later, she’d worked her way to the living room, and it was a disaster. Besides Luke’s things, her own pottery was still unwrapped and scattered on the floor.

After the bar brawl, Luke had once again told her to ignore the mess, that he’d get to it in the morning. “Get some sleep,” he’d said, and had vanished into the basement to presumably follow his own advice.

But Ali couldn’t sleep, and she couldn’t ignore the house anymore. When she’d first seen it, she’d felt sick to the bone. The place was a mess, mirroring her own life. But it was her life and not Luke’s. She’d brought this disaster to his home. And since she had, it was important that she clean it up.

She’d already straightened the bedroom she’d been using and had packed up her stuff while she was at it. She’d tortured Luke enough with her presence. When she was done here, she would go to the Lucky Harbor B&B, and then to the first apartment that was ready, and hope to God her Visa could handle the weight.

It would be okay.

She’d always been spectacularly good at denial, at not looking back, at keeping one foot in front of the other. Nothing about that had changed. She’d landed on her feet before, and she would do it again. Knowing it, she took her first real deep breath since…

Since too long to remember.

At a whisper of sound behind her, she whirled around to find a heavy-lidded, tousled-looking Luke in the doorway, hands braced over his head on the jamb.

“What, no umbrella this time?” he asked.

She relaxed her hold on a ceramic pot. “You nearly got this upside your head.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. He’d clearly come straight from his bed. He was wearing only a pair of black basketball shorts, disturbingly low on his hips, putting all his hard muscles directly in her line of sight. If she touched his abs, she’d find them rock hard. She knew this because during their kiss in his truck, she’d copped a feel.

And there. That. That was what her mind had kept going back to all these past hours while she straightened up. Their kiss. How he’d tasted. How his mouth had slanted over her own, his tongue gliding along hers…She didn’t have to think about the heat they’d generated; she was sweating just remembering it. “Sorry if I woke you,” she said, surrounded by the disaster she’d brought to his door. Averting her face, she concentrated on righting the books.

He didn’t say anything, so she turned back and found him still looking at her, his own gaze hooded. Sleepy. And something else, something that made her throat burn.