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“Why don’t we talk about your scene at the police station yesterday?”

“It wasn’t a scene! I merely wanted someone to take me seriously.”

“Sounds like you found someone to take you very seriously.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

“What are you talking about?” I play it off, knowing exactly what she’s going to say.

“Word has it that the newest detective on the force showed a particular interest in your hissy fit. He even offered his personal assistance in your claim.”

“He was nice,” I offer, avoiding her eyes.

“Nice, huh? Rumor is swirling that he—”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake! Nina needs to keep her mouth shut. There’s nothing to tell.” I huff. Nina is Maren’s cousin, and she’s full of gossip. Working at the police station, she always has a story to share.

“Why are you blushing, Emi? Don’t you want to tell me how the hot cop took one look at you, stormed over, and demanded to know what was happening. Not to mention, his eyes went glacial when Ollie tried to hold your hand.”

I want to argue with her, but her last sentence makes my heart flip. I snap my eyes to hers in disbelief. “They did?”

“According to Nina, no one missed it. Except you, apparently.”

“He was nice.” I shrug, repeating my earlier statement.

“So you’ve said. Why don’t you tell me about him?”

I try to deflect, but his face instantly flashes in my head. Walker Scott has been on my mind a lot more than I want to admit in the last eighteen hours. At first sight of him in the station, I knew he was the man from the restaurant the other night, but I didn’t know if he remembered seeing me, so I decided to play it cool.

There’s no use in trying to fool Maren, so I sigh and decide to let loose. “His name is Walker Scott, and he’s probably the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life. Seriously, he puts every other man to shame in my book.”

Her face lights up in delight, and she jumps out of her chair, rushing to her fridge. In less than two minutes, she’s poured us both a glass of wine and is leering at me with expectant eyes. “Go on,” she urges, bouncing back into her seat.

“I don’t know much more. It was a brief meeting where I explained my suspicions of Carlton. He looked at my car, told me he’d look into it, and I gave him my number in case he finds anything.”

“Okay, well, you say he’s hot. Nina says he’s hot. I want more details.”

I take a sip of my wine and think of how to describe him. “He’s beyond hot, he’s gorgeous. He’s about Oliver’s height but a lot more muscular across the chest and arms. He wore dark jeans and a tan sweater that were casual but looked anything but casual. He could have been modeling them the way they hugged his body. There’s something about him; it’s a combination of rugged and polished—if that’s even possible. He carries himself with a calm façade, but you can tell with one look, he’s intense. I swear to God, his eyes are the most unique shade of hazel, they shine. You have to see him to understand.”

Her face splits into a triumphant grin as she starts typing and then turns the computer to me. “Oh, I’ve seen him.”

My eyes bulge as I realize what she’s done. Pictures of Walker Scott fill the screen. “Mare! Where did you get these?”

“Nina may be a snoop, but she’s an excellent source of information. She takes pictures at all the police events around town. I asked her to forward me a few.”

I scan the pictures, stopping on one where Walker is mid-punch at the annual police vs. firefighter boxing match for the local after-school club. My mouth starts to drool at the image. His face is shielded by protective gear, but his body is on full display. Sweat glistens everywhere: his chest, shoulders, and clearly defined abs. He has several tattoos on his arm, one extending to his left pec. I can’t make out what is it, so I lean in closer.

Right as I do, Maren switches to a new screenshot where he’s standing outside the station among a few other guys. He’s laughing, his head thrown back and arms crossed. There’s a deep dimple in his cheek, and even with the odd angle, you can see the glint in his eyes.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” I sigh dreamily.

“He is. Nina says he’s caught the attention of a lot of ladies in town.”

“Figures.” My dreamy mood vanishes.

“Nina also says he’s never once paid attention to any of them. In the months he’s been here, not even a date. The singles in her circle were starting to get frustrated, figuring he was gay.”

“He’s not gay,” I say with absolute certainty.

“Oh, I know. Nina says the heat between you two was visible from the other side of the room.”