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  A flash of disappointment crosses her gaze. “Yes. I have to get home in time for hockey practice, then back here for the dinner rush. But please, Rhodes. Do come back, try the food. I’m a bit biased, but I promise it’s good. And it’ll fill even the most ravenous growing teenage boy. Make sure to call ahead and I’ll tell my maître d’ to put you at my table.”

  “I’ll pay my way though, Dee.”

  She opens her mouth to protest but shuts it when I continue.

  “But you can repay me by joining me for a meal.” I put myself out there. That’s progress.

  Dee bites her lip and studies me, as if weighing up her options. For a moment, my heart lodges itself in my throat. Maybe I misread the signs—or she’s just not that into me.

  Then she rolls her eyes. “Oh, I suppose I could be persuaded,” she says, a gorgeous, cheeky grin transforming her already beautiful face. “But you better be as charming at dinner as you are now, Mr. Hero. Otherwise, I’ll have gotten my hopes up for nothing.”

  I wouldn’t be able to fight my smile even if I wanted to. Flirting with Dee might be my new nighttime dream fodder. “I’ll try my best, Ms. Duncan.”

  She smiles and starts walking toward the restaurant. “I look forward to seeing you again, Rhodes. Hopefully, next time, there’ll be no police officers involved.” She shoots me a wink then disappears inside the building, leaving me standing on the sidewalk playing back the last thirty minutes to make sure that really just happened.

  When my cell starts vibrating with my best friend Marco’s name on the screen. I bring the phone to my ear and walk along the sidewalk. Marco is going to have a field day with this since Jake has already told him I watch Dee’s cooking videos and going by how soon he’s calling me, it looks like Gio is already spreading the word. “Hello. Look, it’s not what you—”

  “You saved Dee Duncan from a mugging? Damn, Rhodes. You sure know how to make an impression on a girl, don’t ya?”

  Kill me now.

  Chapter 2

  Dee

  I’m about to leave for dinner with my brother, his wife, and my two nephews when Flynn—my ex-husband and still roommate—walks into the kitchen, having just arrived home.

  “Hey,” I say, slinging my purse over my shoulder. “How was work?”

  “Busy, but good.”

  Flynn used to work crazy hours, but after experiencing burnout at thirty-five, we did some traveling with Harvey while he took a much-needed hiatus. The bonus being that we got to experience different cultures, and I was able to learn from a ton of top international chefs, expanding my food knowledge and my palate. The downside was that it made us realize we were better friends and parents than partners and lovers. But to keep a steady ship for Harvey, we decided we’d still live together, and life has kept moving on. In many ways, we’re better now without the relationship and sex stuff between us than we were when we were married. That’s not to say I don’t miss dating, lust, and that butterflies-in-the-tummy feeling. Oh, and sex.

  “You’re home early . . .” I add, turning my ear to the second floor and frowning when I don’t hear our ten-year-old bounding down the stairs.

  “Yeah. My last two appointments canceled, so I decided to come home and see Harvs before you guys left.” It’s then that Harvey bursts into the room, stopping midway to me before turning toward Flynn and changing direction.

  “Dad!”

  “Hey, buddy,” Flynn says, bracing himself before the boy tackles his waist.

  “You said I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

  Flynn ruffles our son’s hair. “I thought I’d surprise you before you two go to Uncle E’s. How was school?”

  “Sooo good. We started to plan our science fair projects.”

  “Oh yeah? And what are we doing this year?”

  Harvey shifts and looks around the room for his backpack before running over to it, rummaging inside, and pulling out his science folder.

  “Baby, have you brushed your teeth?” I ask.

  “Yeah, Mom,” he replies, totally distracted by the task at hand. “Here it is.” He bounds over to his dad. “See? I’m going to test the friction of shoe soles on different textured surfaces.”

  “Ah,” Flynn replies, glancing up at me. “A physicist, then.”

  Harvey’s brows bunch together. “What’s that?”

  “Well, your mom’s cooking is like chemistry, right? Mixing lots of things together to create something else.”

  Harvey nods.

  “And I’m more a biologist, except I work with kids who I need to make better.”

  “Yep,” our son replies, accentuating the P.

  “So, you can be the family’s physicist. They look at energy and forces and structures and how they affect the world.”

  Harvey tilts his head, making me smile because that’s a mannerism he only has me to thank for. “So, energy is like power?”

  “Yep. And speed. Then there’s force. The friction of shoes on different surfaces for example.”

  Harvey’s eyes go wide before he grins and fist pumps the air. “Awesome. Billy Nelson can kiss my butt, ’cause I’m totally gonna beat him now. He’s just doing a boring old volcano.” Harvey rolls his eyes like that’s the most dull project ever.

  “Hey. Don’t knock a good volcano creation. You seem to love my lava cake. That’s like an eruption, isn’t it?” I say, leaning a hip into the kitchen counter and narrowing my eyes at him in mock annoyance.

  “Nah, Mom. That’s a food explosion. That could never be lame.”

  I glance over at Flynn, who’s struggling not to laugh at our son’s logic.

  “Thanks, Harvs. All I’m gonna think about tonight is your mom’s lava cake. And since you two are out for dinner, I’ll have to make do with . . .?” He quirks a hopeful brow my way.

  I sigh dramatically, but it’s all for show. “I brought some spaghetti Alfredo home for you from the restaurant. I’ll even let you steal a glass of the Syrah in the pantry to have with it.”

  “Nice. I knew I lived here for a reason,” he muses.

  I push off the counter with my arm and huff out a breath when I tweak the bruise coming up on my arm.

  “What’s wrong?” Flynn asks. I have the attention of both father and son now.

  “She was rubbing her arm when she picked me up from school too.”

  I wave them off. “It’s nothing.”

  “Didn’t sound like nothing. Want me to check you out?”

  Rolling my eyes, I try distraction. “I just knocked it.”

  Flynn turns to Harvey. “Hey, champ, I’ve got a book for Uncle Ezra in my room. Can you go grab it? It’s the one about European architecture.”

  Harvey looks to me and then his dad. His gaze is skeptical before he shrugs and runs to the kitchen doorway. “For the record, A, I know you’re about to talk about something I don’t need to hear. I’m ten, not an idiot. And B, this is totally the last time I run up those stairs. Sheesh.” Then he spins around, and all that can be heard are his heavy steps up the stairs .

  “Right,” Flynn says, all business now. Damn doctor. “What happened?”

  I sigh as I undo a few buttons of my shirt and push it over my shoulder, revealing not only my bra strap—which is nothing Flynn hasn’t seen many times—but a purple bruised line across my bicep from where my bag strap caught before I let it go.

  Flynn probes the muscle with trained fingers before pinning me with a stern stare. “Wanna tell me what this is about? Or should I just assume it’s something to do with your new video posted today: ‘Food to Make a Bad Day Go Away?’”

  I start straightening my shirt, making sure it looks the same as it was before since Harvey is due back any minute. I try to stare Flynn down, hoping he’ll let the issue go. Unfortunately, he’s as stubborn as I am. “Kid grabbed my bag on the sidewalk. It got caught on my arm before I let him take it,” I say with a sigh.

  “Shit, Dee. Are you okay otherwise?”

  “Yeah. I was a bit sh
ook up. I mean, I didn’t expect to get mugged outside my own restaurant in the middle of the day. But it worked out in the end.” Even better if Rhodes comes back to see me. “Honestly, Flynn. My bag and phone were recovered, and by then, the cops had arrived.”

  “So, you’ve made a report?”

  I avert my eyes, my teeth digging into my lip as I look to the door, willing my son to suddenly appear.

  “Dee,” Flynn growls. “Damn, I forgot how nice you are.”

  Harvey runs back into the room, a big coffee-table book under his arm, saving me from answering any more questions. “Got it, Dad.”

  Thank god for my kid.

  “Right, you ready to go, Harvs? I know for a fact Aunty Gilly has made a big pot of chili for dinner.”

  “And ice cream for dessert?”

  I smirk at him. “Since when do we not have ice cream at Uncle Ezra’s house?”

  “Yay!” He turns to his father and hugs his waist. “Bye, Dad. See you when we get home.”

  “Bye, champ. Say hi to everyone for me.” Flynn’s gaze shifts to me. “Take some Advil. It’ll help.”

  “Yes, Doctor.” I smirk.

  Flynn shakes his head. “Always a smartass. If I’m not here later, I’m at Sophie’s.” Sophie is Flynn’s girlfriend of six months. She never stays at the house, but she’s lovely and she dotes on Harvey, so that’s a plus.

  “All good. I’m working tomorrow night though. Can you be home for Harvey?”

  “Always. Now go. Our son needs his chili and ice cream.”

  I step in and kiss his cheek. “Have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Flynn chuckles. “That doesn’t leave much, does it?”

  “Shh,” I stage-whisper, catching Harvey’s smirk. “Can’t have our kid getting any ideas.”

  “You know I can hear you, Mom, right?” Harvey giggles.

  “I think we’ve got our hands full with this tweenager. What do you think, Dad?”

  Flynn chuckles. “Have fun, guys. Harvs, look after your mother.”

  “Will do.”

  And with that, our son takes my hand in his and leads me to the door, like the mini protector-in-training he is.

  It’s after dinner that my brother brings up the elephant in the room. I didn’t feel the need to tell anyone about today’s incident because it all worked out, and it’s just the embarrassment that I was caught unawares that I’m left with. But then again, I also met a charming, intriguing, incredibly sexy man who flirted with me. I flirted back, and now he may—or may not—come to have dinner at the restaurant sometime in the future. God, I hope he does.

  “So, I may have heard you had a little fun today?” Ezra says when Gilly, Harvey, and my nephew, Hudson, leave the room in search of ice cream. Ezra and Gilly’s daughter, Olivia, is already in bed, having fallen asleep in her high chair during dinner.

  My brows go up as I rest my hands on the table. “Is that so? Which little birdie in a police uniform told you that?”

  My brother’s lips twitch, his eyes alight with amusement. “I don’t reveal my sources.”

  “Bullshit,” I say with a laugh. “Gio has a big mouth.”

  Ezra lifts his wine glass to his mouth. “I would have hoped my little sister would have told me.”

  “Not so little anymore, big brother.”

  His eyes turn soft. “You’ll always be little to me.”

  My heart swells. “Stop being sweet.”

  “I can’t help what comes naturally,” he says as his eyes turn concerned. “You’re okay though?

  I nod. “Yeah. I kind of had a knight in shining armor come to my rescue.” And boy, what a good-looking knight he was. Well-kept light brown hair, the perfect amount of stubble covering a square jaw, kind blue eyes, and a smile that made me forget all about being mugged.

  “Oh?”

  I can’t help the wry smile that curves my lips at the memory of Rhodes apologizing for letting the kid go. That show of compassion hit my soft spot, well and truly. A man who jumps in to help not one, but two strangers like that is definitely a man I want to get to know better. The fact that he’s hot as Hades is just a bonus.

  “That smile says there’s a story there . . .” Ezra muses.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Okay, Dee. I’ll let you keep your secrets this time,” he says with a wink. “Now what are you doing next weekend?”

  I scan my brain. “Nothing much. Flynn is going fishing for the weekend and the restaurant is covered, so it’s a mom and son weekend.”

  “So, movies, baking, and PlayStation then?”

  “Pretty much,” I say with a laugh. “Why do you ask?”

  Ezra is an open book—always has been, always will be. But there’s a semi-cautious edge to his expression that piques my curiosity.

  “The firehouse is having a barbecue. It’s at Skye and Cohen’s house this time and we’re using it as an excuse to have a final get-together before the baby comes. Everyone you know is going to be there, including Mom and Dad, so it would be cool if you and Harvey could come.”

  “Aww, that sounds good. Will give us a chance to catch up with Faith and Bry too.” Our youngest sister, Faith, and her childhood sweetheart, Bryant, both work full time. And with two kids under five, a house that they are forever renovating, and my unsociable hours at the restaurant on top of that, we don’t get to catch up as often as we’d like.

  Ezra shifts in his seat and clears his throat. “I might have an ulterior motive as well . . .”

  “Mmm hmm.” I take a sip of my wine and rest my glass on the table.

  “We’ve got a friend who we’d like you to meet. But apparently you already did that today…”

  My mouthful gets stuck halfway down my throat, and I start spluttering. “What?”

  “Yeah . . . look, another little birdie—”

  “Not the police officer birdie?” Then something occurs to me. “Wait . . . the friend isn’t Gio, is it?”

  He smirks. “No, a different friend this time. Gio is a good guy, but I’m not sure he could keep up with you. He’s more of a stay-at-home-and-chill kind of person.”

  That gets my attention. Because Gio is Skye’s brother, and she works with her husband Cohen at a fire station. Surely the world isn’t that small . . .

  “Rhodes Anderson. The man who stepped in to help you today.”

  Yep. This world is completely too small. What are the odds? “Okay.”

  Ezra’s head jerks back and I know I’ve surprised the hell out of him. “Really?”

  “Yeah. It’s just a casual meeting amongst friends and family. He seems like a good guy.”

  “He’s a fucking great guy, Dee.”

  I kind of got that impression, but I’m not going to admit that to you, brother.

  “So, tell me about him. I wanna be prepared for this blind date setup.”

  “It’s not a—”

  I level my brother with a stare, seeing right through him before throwing my head back and barking out a laugh. “You’re so full of shit, Ez. This is totally a setup, and I’m up for it. Does this mean Rhodes knows I’m your sister?”

  Ezra’s grin widens. “Nope.”

  I quirk a brow. “You don’t think you should tell him?”

  “Nope,” he replies, just as sure of himself.

  “What about the YouTube account?”

  “Apparently he already watches the videos.”

  My body jerks at that. “Wait . . . if he knows about the vlogging, does that mean he knew who I was before today? Was he outside the restaurant to check me out?” There goes my thoughts of serendipity . . .

  “Now that I can clear up. He’d just been to see his parents at a homeless shelter downtown and happened to be walking by when you were attacked.”

  “Okay. That seems like a bit of a weird coincidence.” I tilt my head and bite my lip. “Are you sure he’s on the up and up?” Surely I haven’t been out of the dating game for that long that I can’t trust
my gut instinct about a guy.

  “Stop thinking so hard and looking for a problem where there isn’t one. If it helps, he’s a widower with a sixteen-year-old son. He’s also a career firefighter who works with Marco Rossi—Gio’s brother, by the way, and little birdie number two—which is the same firehouse where Skye and Cohen work.”

  It makes sense and seems like a logical explanation. But it’s a little close to home. What if we don’t get along outside of ‘just been mugged and checking I’m okay’situations? “Do you ever think this entire friendship/family group is way too incestuous?”

  Ez leans back in his chair and shoots me a shit-eating grin. “Yep. But there’s no pressure here. If you don’t want to be set up with Rhodes, he doesn’t even need to know. No harm, no foul. But if you do, then a BBQ where mutual friends are there to make it a little less awkward than a straight blind date is a safe bet.”

  Harvey walks back into the room with Gilly and Hudson, both of the boys carrying bowls of ice cream.

  “Did you ask her?” Gilly says before turning to me, not giving Ezra a chance to answer. “Did he ask you?”

  I giggle and nod. “Yes, he did, and yes, I will.”

  “Yay. He’s such a nice guy. And hot,” she whispers. “Right, Ez?”

  My brother sputters around his mouthful of wine, glaring at his wife. “Hot, baby mama? Really?”

  “Hey. I’m married, not dead,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “I know he’s hot. He was the one to help me today when I was mu—” I stop, feeling Harvey’s gaze boring into me.

  “When you were what, Mom?” he asks.

  I look his way. “When I was outside my work.”

  “Who helped you?” he presses, his ice cream no longer his main focus.

  “A nice man. A very good-looking man. And one who seems to think your mom here is all that and a bag of potato chips.” Gilly winks at me, and I groan at the impending rapid-fire questions my son will no doubt have.

  “Really, Gilly?” Ezra says, chuckling under his breath. “Should I leave you two alone for this conversation?”

  “You should do it, Mom. You need more friends. I mean . . .” Harvey shrugs. “You don’t go out and meet people. You’re always at work or with me. And Dad has a girlfriend, so why can’t you?”