Maybe it was time he asked a woman out because he wanted to. Because he thought he might enjoy her. And, yeah, because his body stirred at the idea of getting naked with her.
By the time he dropped Rachel off on Sunday, he was cursing himself for not finding an opportunity to have asked Eve for her phone number. He called information from his cell phone and was told there was no listing for an Eve Lawson. Probably not a surprise, given her profession—and she likely didn’t even have a landline. He kept his number and address unlisted, too, as did most cops. Of course, he had better resources on the job—but getting a date wasn’t an acceptable reason to use them.
He could call her parents or ask Seth, but didn’t like the idea of setting himself up for humiliation if she turned him down. She’d have voice mail at the local DSHS office...but, man, that wasn’t any way to ask a woman out.
Ben usually carried his own cell phone all the time, but Seth had a tendency to lay his on his desk and leave it when he got coffee or used the john. Monday, Ben bided his time.
“Damn, too much coffee,” Seth grumbled at last, and ambled out.
Ben went to his partner’s desk and half sat on it, waiting until nobody in the bull pen was watching him, then casually reached for the phone, hoping it wasn’t password-protected. Quick, quick. Contacts...what if Seth hadn’t kept Eve’s listing? But why wouldn’t he, when she was Bailey’s sister?
Yes! There it was. Ben committed the number to memory and set the phone down as casually as he’d picked it up, then wandered over to refill his own coffee cup.
Should he call her in the middle of the day, or wait until evening? Evening, he decided. He didn’t want to catch her at a bad moment.
His apartment always felt especially empty and cheerless after he’d had Rachel. He kept thinking he should do something to make the spare bedroom more hers, but he occasionally considered buying a house and hated to waste a lot of effort on a cookie-cutter apartment. After walking in the door at almost seven that evening, he went straight to the kitchen and turned on the oven, then took a pizza from the freezer. He ought to add a vegetable, but decided “ought to” wasn’t enough motivation.
Finally, he took out his phone. Called up Eve’s number, waited as it rang. Once, twice, three times. His tension rose. Why hadn’t he thought to ask Seth if she had a boyfriend? Four.
On the fifth ring, she answered. Her “Hello?” sounded breathless.
“Eve? This is Ben Kemper. We met at Seth’s the other day.”
Silence was his immediate answer. “Ben,” she said finally, sounding cautious. “With the cute little girl. Did she have fun sledding?”
“She got cold really fast. She claimed to have fun, but I don’t know.”
“That’s too bad. I remember the first time I had a chance to go. It was the most fun I’d ever had.”
“Was it the Lawsons who took you?”
“Yes. I mean, before that I tried sliding on cardboard a few times—” She broke off. “I was older than your daughter, though. I mean, when Mom and Dad took me.”
She was adopted. He knew that much, but nothing about the years that came before. Years that might explain why she’d chosen the work she did.
“I’ll try again,” he said. “With Rachel, that is. Maybe buy her some better winter boots and mittens she can leave here.”
“Good idea, except she’ll outgrow them fast.”
Time for a segue into the reason for his call. “Eve, I’m hoping you’ll let me take you to dinner one of these nights.”
Waiting through the ensuing silence, Ben felt about sixteen, asking out the girl he’d had a crush on for the past year. No, longer than that—since middle school. He felt light-headed and realized he was holding his breath. Stupid. It wasn’t as if this mattered so much. It was maybe a little more awkward than usual, because of Eve’s relationship to Seth and Bailey, but—
“I’d like that,” she said simply.
Yes! “I’m free any night,” he admitted. That was him, man about town. “But we can wait until the weekend if that would be better for you.”
“No, as long as I don’t stay out late, a weeknight is fine.”
He wished it wasn’t too late for tonight. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is good.” Did she sound bemused?
Stimson didn’t have a lot of fine dining, but he didn’t want to suggest they drive any distance given that they both probably had to get up early the next morning. “Any chance you like Thai?” he asked.
She did. There might not be a decent Italian restaurant in town, but the Thai one was good. She gave him her address, and they agreed on six. “Just give me a call if you have to be late,” she said, surprising him with her understanding until he remembered she’d dated Seth.
Damn it, had she slept with Seth? Man, he hoped not. Not only for his sake, he realized, but also for Eve’s and Bailey’s.
He leaned back in his chair, suppressing a grin. He had a date.
* * *
“I ALMOST CALLED you today,” Eve confessed the next evening to Ben. The host, whose English was poor to nonexistent, had seated them in a booth, handed them menus and backed away. Eve didn’t reach for hers.
Neither did Ben. His mouth kicked up at one corner. “Because you couldn’t wait for this evening?”
She huffed, which had him smiling. “Seriously. Something happened today involving one of my kids.”
“Your kids?” He looked startled.
Despite her worry about Joel, Eve giggled at Ben’s expression. “Not literally! I’m sorry. I think of them that way. The kids I supervise.”
“I had this sudden picture of children packed into bunk beds behind closed doors in your apartment.” Amusement laced that slightly gritty voice. “You sternly telling them to hush until you and the nice man were gone.”
“Are you a nice man?” Lord, she was flirting. Where had her ambivalence gone?
“Of course I am.” Giving her a lazy, sexy grin, he nodded at her menu and picked up his own. “We should probably order before we delve into why you needed to call a detective about one of your kids.”
They both decided on jasmine tea and to share an order of spring rolls. He ordered a green curry with chicken, Eve a spicy eggplant in a chili paste.
“Trying to scare me off?” Ben asked drolly.
She blinked, and probably blushed. “Oh, dear. I didn’t think. It probably will, um, give me interesting breath.”
He only laughed, although his eyes were heavy-lidded. “Curry might not taste so good secondhand, either.”
Eve knew she was blushing now. He intended to kiss her. Thank heavens the lighting in here was dim and her skin didn’t show the warmth as obviously as someone much paler would.
“Your kid,” he prompted.
Kid? Then, embarrassed by what must be a blank expression, she said hurriedly, “His name is Joel Kekoa. His dad is Hawaiian and Joel looks it, too.”
“Wait. Does he play football?”
“Yes. You go to games?”
“Sometimes. He’s good.”
“So