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doesn’t understand what he’s doing here any more than I do. If I question him about it too much he might just decide I’m not worth the trouble and walk away. Now that he’s here, I don’t want him to leave, I realize. I’ve never had a partner in anything. I’m not sure what to do with him. He’s big and commanding and watching me, gauging my reaction to him.
    “Okay,” I say on a sigh, sliding my skirt up with my gun and slipping it into my thigh holster.
    A corner of his lips tilts up as he tracks my movements. The gleam of male appreciation flashes in his eyes. Seeing it doesn’t freak me out, and I marvel again at the contradiction this guy brings out in me. He thinks I’m sexy and I
like
it.
    “Have you eaten?” he asks.
    “No.”
    “There’s a diner a block down.”
    Is he asking me out?
Lips parting, I blink at him, uncertain of what I should do.
    “You have to eat sometime.”
    I bob my head. It’s all I can manage. He slowly gets to his feet, his gaze on mine, and gestures to the door. I put my coat on and grab my purse, eyeing him all the while. He gives me lots of room, slipping out sideways through the door I hold open. He waits a respectable distance away as I close the door and check to make sure it’s locked. We walk side by side down the street. He never once accidentally brushes against me or makes any effort to touch me.
    He holds the door to the diner open for me and follows me in. A tired-looking waitress tells us to sit anywhere we want to. This time of night the place is empty, and Beau lets me choose our table. He slides in across from me and reaches for the menus tucked behind the napkin holder. He hands one to me, then opens his and looks it over. I do the same. I calculate in my head how much money I have and how long it will last me. I hadn’t planned on eating out, so this little extravagance is going to cost me. Selecting the cheapest sandwich, I close my menu and try to reassure myself that this one time won’t make that much of a difference. If I eat only half the sandwich I can save the other half for lunch tomorrow.
    Beau sets his menu aside. “When was the last time you saw your sister?”
    “In person? I don’t remember, exactly. We were in the same foster home for a while before we were separated forever. I was maybe six or seven. I’m not sure.”
    “She’s lucky to have you. I know what it’s like to have a sister who would do anything for me.”
    It all suddenly becomes clear. “Cora’s the reason you were freed.”
    “Yeah. Her and her boyfriend and his father, Mr. Nash, who owns the agency. She somehow talked them into helping her help me.”
    “So I’m a pay-it-forward project?”
    “Yes and no. I have my own reasons for helping you.”
    “Because you’re not doing anything else worthwhile with your life.” I toss his words back at him.
    “There are other reasons besides that, but that’s also part of it.”
    He’s not going to crack, so I change the subject. “How long have you worked at the agency?”
    “Since this morning.”
    “But you have investigative experience, right?”
    “Nope.”
    “And you’re going to help me
how
?”
    His laugh is quiet and deep. It has an unused edge to it that makes it slightly awkward. And sexy. “I’m not exactly sure about that.”
    I tilt my head in confusion.
    “Cora and Leo, her boyfriend, are going to train me while he’s home for spring break. They offered me a job today. You’re my first case. Well, the first case I get to help out on, anyway.”
    “Is this a blackmail thing, then? You don’t tell them about me and you get a new job out of it?”
    He sits up and puts his palms out. “It’s not at all like that. They offered me the job before I found out you’re not Vera Swain. I could tell them or not tell them, and it wouldn’t change a thing for me other than I don’t get to help you.”
    The waitress shows up with two glasses of water and takes our order. Beau’s mouth presses