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Luke couldn’t get the thought out of his head as they shared dinner and drinks and exchanged stories about their lives. Luke had been raised by a single mom in various apartments in Denver, and Tessa had grown up here in Boulder in the same big house she lived in now. He couldn’t quite imagine that kind of continuity. He’d never lived in an actual house his whole life. He and his wife had owned a condo a half mile from the beach in L.A., but he wasn’t about to bring that up.
Still, he seemed to remember that not everything had been wine and roses for the Donovan family. “Your parents passed away when you were young, right?” Another thing he couldn’t imagine.
“I was fourteen.”
“What happened?”
“They were driving in the mountains at night. There was a rock slide, and they drove head-on into a boulder. It was quick, at least.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago, and we had one another. That’s one reason my brothers are so protective. Eric, especially. He had to take over raising us.”
“That’s pretty amazing.” And so damn touching that it resurrected Luke’s guilt about going out with Tessa, adding another awful layer to it. She was an orphan. Great. Sure, she looked sexy as hell tonight in her heels and tight jeans and that damn shirt that flashed an intriguing amount of cleavage whenever she leaned forward. But that wasn’t the real Tessa. The real Tessa was a sweet orphan girl in a T-shirt and a ponytail who deserved to find a little stability in her life. She’d had it rough enough without a man like Luke around.
She leaned forward, and the mounds of her breasts made another brief appearance. Jesus, her skin looked soft and sweet.
“So,” she said, “you lived in Denver and then you came here for school and never left?”
Yikes. He really didn’t want to talk about his life in California. But avoiding the question would only draw more curiosity. “My first job as a police officer was in L.A.”
“Wow, was that scary?”
“Scary?” He was distracted by her mouth. It made a little O of surprise and she leaned farther forward. Her mouth…her cleavage… Luke found himself thinking some very dirty things about Tessa Donovan.
“Scary!” She gestured and her breasts pushed up. He swallowed. Hard. “Big-city scary.”
“I was shot, if that’s what you mean.”
“Shot?”
Uh-oh. He’d gone too far. Tessa jerked back in her chair and the view disappeared. And now he was just sitting there with a lap full of regretful lust. He never talked about being shot. Her cleavage was a damned menac
e.
“Oh, my God! Where were you shot?”
“In the shoulder. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“How did it happen?”
“A bullet came through a wall. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all.”
“Oooh, you’re so stoic and manly about it.”
Luke felt his scowl tip up into a smile. He reached for his margarita. “Oh, yeah? You like that?”
“I sure do. Come on. Don’t tell me that story hasn’t gotten you laid a few times.”
Lime juice burned like hell when it went down your windpipe, and that was knowledge Luke could’ve happily lived without. As he coughed, Tessa lifted her own margarita and winked. “You probably practice that sexy damaged-cop thing in the mirror.”
“Excuse me?” he choked out.
She waved her fingers toward his chest as she took a delicate sip. “I’ve got you all figured out, Detective Luke Asher.”
“Have I already suggested that you watch too many cop shows?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I do. I hope you’re not refusing to play along.”
