Germaine brightened. “Yes, yes. You must go on to your evening out.”
Lucy’s answer was to tug him toward the door. “Did you hear that, Carlo? Let’s get a move on or next thing I know you’ll be too busy filling out your AARP membership forms to find your way to a party.”
Half-amused by her burst of energy and half-bemused by her second round of insults, he allowed her to pull him through the front door and toward his car. Even without a rock band, she was already dancing along the pavement and chattering away about the stars, the clear sky, how happy she was to be back in San Diego, which always held a hint of ocean in the night air.
When he pulled out of the driveway, he realized he was smiling again. Relaxed. She took a breath and he took advantage of the brief moment of quiet. “Lucy, I’m…”
“Feeling better?”
His head jerked her way. Her gaze was on him, her eyes big. Empathetic.
She knew.
She’d known he was close to losing it back there in Germaine’s living room.
It was as embarrassing as hell to realize, but now it was clear that Lucy had intentionally come to his rescue. By stepping in with her sassy attitude and smart remarks, Lucy had given him the time and the distraction necessary to compose himself. Germaine hadn’t needed him dumping his sorrow on top of her own.
Lucy had made sure he didn’t.
“Lucy…” He was at a loss for words, still embarrassed that she’d read him so easily. Swallowing, he tried again. “You…”
She sent him that bright brat smile and fiddled with the hem of her too-short dress. “Look great in a pair of handkerchiefs, right?”
His gaze fell to her half-naked legs, then jumped back to the impish curve of her bright berry mouth. His blood rushed south and he felt that recognizable tightness at his groin. Of course, it couldn’t be because of Lucy and how good she smelled and how delectable she looked in that dress. She was an old family friend, so it wasn’t—
Oh, fine. What the hell. Why deny it? He was a man, with all the normal male responses. The truth was, old family friend or not, Lucy Sutton turned him on.
The admission sent his cop instincts hog wild again. This time they had another loud-and-clear message. Be careful, they told him. Be very careful.
She was still the little sister of some of his best friends, Elise and the sisters’ brothers, Jason and Sam.
The Suttons and the Milanos had been connected for years and would continue to be connected for years to come.
So don’t risk introducing awkwardness into the mix.
So don’t risk getting too close to a woman who’d already shown herself adept at understanding his moods.
He took another breath of her sweet, feminine perfume. Yeah, Milano, don’t risk getting too close. Because of the two people sitting in the butter leather seats of his Lexus, he had the sudden premonition that the one most likely to get into trouble tonight was him.
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