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his gun and light still in his hands. “You okay, Baldwin?” he asked.
    Baldwin? Ellie’s message rang in Macy’s head. Surely not Jake Baldwin?
    “You delivering a pizza to this address?” the dark-haired man asked.
    Macy’s panic inched up a notch. Had something happened to Ellie? Is that why the cops were here? “What’s going on?”
    “I ask the questions,” he replied. “Why were you sneaking—?”
    “I wasn’t sneaking.” But her heart skipped a beat.
    He eyed her hat again. “So, you were delivering pizza?”
    She hesitated. She needed time to think, to rationalize. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was working with David. That’s what Ellie had said about Baldwin. What if she and Macy’s brother weren’t crazy? What if this was a dirty cop?
    “There’s a pizza over here,” the blond officer said, flashing his light across the ground.
    Baldwin eyed her. “It’s late for a delivery, isn’t it?”
    Still clutching her shirt, Macy pondered the wisdom of lying to the police. “We’re open until midnight,” she responded. Not a lie.
    “Kind of strange that no one’s home,” he accused. “Who ordered it?”
    “I…” Something about his eyes bothered her. They were either dark blue or brown, she couldn’t tell which, but she didn’t like the way they analyzed her or the way his gaze had shifted to her chest. And she remembered the feel of his body pressing her against the hard ground, causing things to tingle that hadn’t tingled in a long time, a not-so-subtle reminder that she hadn’t been close to a man in a long time. She definitely didn’t like this and didn’t want those tingles.
    More uncomfortable than ever, she stated another truth. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
    “Really? What’s your name again?”
    “Macy Tucker. And yours?” Don’t let it be—
    “Sergeant Jake Baldwin.” The cop pressed a fist to his thigh.
    Her hopes dashed, Macy’s heart pounded with indecision. Tell him the truth. Don’t tell him. What if he’s a dirty cop?
    “I’m sure you’ve got identification on you,” he said.
    “It’s in my car.” Her gaze shot back to the house. “Something happen here?”
    “Why don’t you get me your ID?” The cop got to his feet and motioned for her to do the same. Either she hadn’t hit her mark perfectly or he had balls of steel.
    Standing, blouse held tightly together, she walked to her car. There she used her right hand to dig her wallet from her purse. Her left hand kept her shirt closed. The blond cop, standing under the spray of a streetlight, watched her with a keen eye, while Baldwin walked around her vehicle and studied the license plate, her hat clasped in his hands. He met her at the driver side door and took her driver’s license.
    “Why did you try to run, Pizza Girl?” He studied her license before returning it.
    “Because you scared the crap out of me,” she answered.
    “I told you I was police.”
    “And I told you, I didn’t hear you identify yourself. I heard the dog, the cat, and the trash can. Didn’t you hear the commotion?”
    “Maybe I did.” He set her hat back on her head and gave it a playful little twist. The action matched a suddenly playful look in his eyes.
    Ugh. She didn’t want “playful” with a man, and her body’s response to his nearness didn’t matter. She tossed her wallet back in her car and readjusted her hat. “Can I go now?”
    Instead of answering, he dipped his head inside her car, eyed the second pizza box, and sniffed as if he’d caught wind of the old pizza scent. Pulling back, he met her gaze. “Looks as if you might be telling the truth. I’m sorry I scared you. You okay?”
    “Yeah.”
    His apology rang sincere. Could she trust him? She wanted to, but Ellie hadn’t and Billie hadn’t. What if they were right?
    She glanced back at the house and asked one more time, “What happened?” She hoped he’d give her a reason to trust him. She needed a reason. Her time studying