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“But he’s dark and dangerous, the exact opposite of what I need. Right?”

Sarah’s animated features fell, and she pursed her lips. “Listen. You’re allowed to be attracted to whoever you want. I’m happy for you. Hell, I’m ecstatic. Run with it, girl. Don’t let your past dictate who you are now.”

“Can someone be attracted to a guy who’s so wrong for them?”

“Have you read a romance novel? Women swoon over the bad guy, but something tells me your dark and dangerous isn’t a bad one.”

Both our heads jerked toward the sound of John’s door swinging open. “Come on in, Birdie,” John called from where he stood just inside his office door.

“Okay,” I called back. Releasing an anxious breath, I shoved out of the desk chair.

Sarah’s hand darted out, gripping my wrist and preventing me from leaving.

“I want to hear more about him. Can we have a girls’ night? With ice cream and popcorn and wine and a chick flick while we talk about boys?” The hope in her voice tugged at a part of me I hadn’t realized was even there anymore. Those first couple of years in college were the last time I had a real girls’ night full of laughter, secrets, and soul-cleansing chatter.

“Sure, but no wine. My place.” I glanced to my boots as I mentally mapped out my schedule. “How about tomorrow night?”

Releasing my wrist, Sarah clasped her hands together with a high-pitched squeal.

Benny tucked his paws over his ears to ward off the loud, unexpected noise.

When I was almost halfway to John’s office, Sarah squealed from the front room. “Did you hear that, Benny boy? I’ve won her trust, finally.”

With a smile, I strode into John’s office and flopped into the uncomfortable standard-issue office chair.

“Shut the door, Birdie.”

Huffing my annoyance, hoping to leave it open to catch the draft of hot air from the hall to counteract the cold wind blowing through the open window, I leaned forward and shut the door, locking it three times with the tips of my fingers before turning back. “Shut. What’s all this about? If it’s about Sadie Lou Who—”

“How did—” He shook his head. “This isn’t about her. It’s about you.”

Interest piqued, I bent forward, resting my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands. “So it’s true. You did ask her out?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

Index finger tapping against my temple, I looked to the ceiling, then rolled my eyes to him. “Um, because it’s against policy.”

“Damn, Birdie, it’s one date, not rewriting the Constitution.”

“We’re dealing with a serial killer right now, you know. Shouldn’t your focus be there instead of on her?” Dang it, I sounded jealous. Which I was, but not in the way he wanted.

“I can focus on both just fine. What’s your deal? I figured you’d be too busy with the two temporary additions to our team to even give two shits about my love life.”

“Is that why you asked her out? Because of them?”

John’s face grew red. “No, Alta. I asked her out because she’s nice, and attractive, and wants me too. Thought I should start going after women whowantto date me.”

An awkward silence stretched between us as we glared at one another.

“We’re friends, and they’re here to work on the case. You know I can’t date,” I whispered. My own words were like a sucker punch to the gut.

What the hell was I thinking with Cas? I couldn’t date. I didn’t even like to be touched. Even though his touch the other daywasn’tterrible. It was pretty great, actually.

I shifted my gaze to the floor and shook my head to clear the volleying thoughts.

“Which is why you’re here now.” Shuffling a few papers around on the desk, he withdrew a file and slid it toward me. “Thought you should know who you’re dealing with.”

I leaned forward and grabbed the file, flipping to the first page as I sat back in the chair. “How’d you get more information on this guy than the FBI? Is it more than what Chandler has from the previous—”