Page 63 of On a Deadline

He yawned without remorse.

By the time a knock came, the apartment smelled like lemon and basil and the stove’s low heat. Erin wiped her hands on a dish towel and pulled thedoor open. Jamie stood there with a white box tied with a gold ribbon cradled against her chest and a smile that pushed a warm line across Erin’s ribs.

“Hi,” Jamie said.

“Hi.” Erin stepped aside. “You brought the good kind of trouble.”

“I figured it’s Monday,” Jamie said, lifting the box. “Seemed only right.”

Erin’s eyes cut to the ribbon and back to Jamie. A laugh caught in her throat. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered.” Jamie slid out of her shoes and nudged them into place next to Erin’s. “You told me about your cannoli rule. I like rules that include dessert.”

Erin took the box with a care she hoped didn’t show. “You’re dangerous.”

Jamie sniffed the air. “You cooked. Are you trying to show me up?”

“It’s not hard to boil pasta,” Erin said, then flushed. “I mean, I can cook. Just not anything that requires a blowtorch or an advanced degree.”

“That’s a relief.” Jamie stepped toward the kitchen and paused as Leo trotted forward, ears perked. “Hey, handsome.”

“Don’t lie to him,” Erin said. “He’s a tyrant.”

Leo leaned into Jamie’s hand like he’d been waiting all day for her to arrive. Jamie scratched under his collar, then glanced up with a grin that stuck.

“He remembers me.”

“He remembers anyone who brings cannoli,” Erin said, setting the white box with the gold ribbon on the counter.

Jamie set a bottle of red beside it. “Backup plan, in case you needed liquid courage.”

Erin watched her for a second, quiet settling over her shoulders like a soft coat. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” Jamie said, simple as that.

They moved easily. Jamie poured wine. Erin salted the sauce. Steam fogged the small window above the sink and ran in thin lines down the glass. Leo sprawled on the mat like a sentry whose beat happened to include the kitchen triangle.

“So,” Jamie said, leaning a hip against the counter, “how are you? And please don’t cop out withfine.”

“I would never.” Erin twirled a wooden spoon and smiled when Jamie groaned. “I’m okay. Today started rough. Ended better.”

“Because you’re feeding me.”

“Among other perks.”

Jamie’s eyes warmed. “Among other perks.”

Erin lifted the pot and poured pasta into a colander, steam wrapping her face. “How was your day? Please tell me it didn’t involve another leaf blower.”

“Not a blower in sight,” Jamie said. “We did a follow-up on city park maintenance budgets, and I got to argue with a spreadsheet on camera.”

“Riveting.”

“I make everything riveting.” Jamie tucked hair behind her ear and lowered her voice. “I kept waiting for someone to send me a mean email. I think people got it out of their system after the presser.”

Erin’s hand paused over the pan. The word hung there between them.Presser.She set the bowl down and met Jamie’s eyes.

“I’m sorry about that,” Erin said. “Not for the question. For the mess after. I know everyone thinks it was your win, but I also know you didn’t want it at my expense.”