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“I’m not even Italian, you know,” Gianni giggles, his accent gone.
“Prick!” I slap him and lift my leg, ready to kick him.
“Whoa!” The man apprehending Gianni pulls his captive away from me. “Take it easy, Miss. You don’t wanna be charged with assault.”
Assault, my ass!
“Let me do it for you,” he says tightly—and then swings Gianni, thumping his knee into that asshole’s gut.
Damn! Why did I find that sexy?
As the blue and red loom in the distance, I can’t help admiring the silhouette of my savior. His snug, long-sleeve t-shirt shows his tight arms, and his broad shoulders—I shouldn’t even think about it, butmamma mia, I wouldn’t mind resting my weary head on one of those.
An officer strides toward us with his flashlight aimed at Gianni. “I’m Officer Reilly, and that’s Officer Saunders,” he says, indicating his partner. “What’s going on?”
“He stole my necklace and watch,” I say.
“No!” Gianni is still grimacing from the kick. “This guy is trying to kill me. I’m a victim here.”
How I’m glad I didn’t kiss that son of a bitch. My lips knew better, but I still have a lot to learn to tune up my instincts. If someone like Gianni is able to fool me, how many more men out there will eat me for breakfast?
“Shut up,” Officer Reilly says to Gianni, and then motions for his partner to take over my criminal date. While the other officer handcuffs Gianni, Officer Reilly approaches me. “Seems you’ve just gotten stung by the ‘first date thief.’ Luckily, this knight in shining armor saved you.” He glances at the car driver. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Rob Hartley.”
The officer writes on his notepad, but his gaze seem to be pondering, as if the name sounds familiar to him.
The local Green Arrow, whose name turns out to be Rob, throws an I’m-a-nice-guy look at the officer, perhaps assuring him that he’s not on Santa Maria’s most-wanted list.
Officer Reilly continues, “This thief has been on our radar. He’s known for stealing jewelry from—well, his first dates.”
I’m such an idiot! So even a down-to-earth guy can be an asshole. Maybe that was his intention. Gianni acted humbly because he wanted me to believe he was all innocent and trustworthy, masking his true goals.
“So you were the one calling 911? Can I confirm your name, ma’am?” the officer asks.
“Amber-Rose Cannizzaro.” I spell my family name for him, which I always have to do.
In the brightness of the police car’s lights, I can see Rob smiling at me once again—this time thoughtful. He has a diamond-shaped face and kind eyes. He doesn’t have to try; I already believe he’s a nice guy.
A tow truck arrives, taking Gianni’s mangled Yamaha as I helplessly let my necklace and watch get bagged. “Is that necessary?” I grumble.
“We need these for evidence. His other victims weren’t so lucky, and we couldn’t recover anything. We’ll let you know when you can pick them up.”
Officer Reilly gives a signal to his partner that they’re ready to leave. While their car is making a U-turn, even though I can’t see through the window, I stare right at where Gianni is sitting. I still want to kick him myself. My ego is definitely hurt.
The state of pandemonium ends with the departure of the police car. But something else is hurting me, too. My damn foot.
“Bastard,” I murmur when I discover that my left shoe is peeling at the sole. I’m wearing a pair of ballerina flats, and they didn’t have a chance considering my pace on the rough asphalt surface.
“Can I drive you home?” Rob offers.
“Ah… yeah…” I hop on one foot while checking the damage to the bottom of the other.
Seeing me struggle, he steps closer and taps on his shoulder. “Hold on to me.”
I release my injured foot to grab hold of his unfaltering frame—but perhaps giddy from the contact or simply too exhausted to stay graceful, I lose my balance.
“Careful.” He nimbly catches my arm, not letting me forget his status of being my hero anytime soon.
