Page 75 of One Lucky Hero (Men in Uniform 1)

“I’m telling you how to not fuck up with my sister. I want her to be happy, and she seems to like you.” Casey’s pale face darkened in warning. “But if you hurt her, I’ll destroy you.”

If there’s one thing to be said about Violet, she definitely brings out the protective instinct in people.

“Understood. What do you suggest first? Out of curiosity, of course.”

Casey looked up thoughtfully, obviously taking his role as love guru seriously. “My sister hates horror movies, so don’t take her to one at a theater. You’re pretty safe with a chick flick or anything with Channing Tatum.”

Strike the movies.

“Got it. She already mentioned her aversion to zombies.”

“Oh, and she hates sushi and seafood.”

“I’m not a fan of it either, so that works out well.”

“You might want to grab a paper and pen and take notes,” Casey said solemnly. “My sister is pretty particular.”

“I tell you what. Does she like pizza?” Dean asked.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Well, I’ll start out by bringing her a pizza, and you make a list for me. Can’t screw up too bad with pepperoni and cheese deep-dish, right?”

“Violet likes pineapple and Canadian bacon on thin crust.”

“Check. And thanks for the tip.”

“Sure thing,” Casey said.

As Casey took off jogging across the lawn, Dean realized that he’d given Casey the same advice Martinez had given him. That he needed to deal with his issues and ask for help. How could he, a grown-ass man, ask a young kid to do what he couldn’t?

There was a reason for that, it seemed. He was a damn hypocrite.

VIOLET LEFT ALPHA Dog, gripping the steering wheel as if she wanted to tear it apart. Today she’d been determined to get in and force Casey to talk to her, but Sergeant Kline had stopped her in the lobby and told her Casey was having a bad day. That it would probably be a good idea to let him be for a day or so.

Of course she’d had questions, but when she’d asked to talk to Dean, he’d been out of the office, and Kline hadn’t offered any other explanation. Combine that with the flat tire she’d gotten on the way home, and she was in a piss-poor mood.

Violet turned down her street and pulled into the driveway. The only thing that was going to make her feel better was a hot shower and warm chocolate chip cookies.

She was trying to remember if she still had baking soda when she noticed a man in a charcoal gray suit sitting on the steps of the porch.

Who wears a heavy suit jacket in ninety-degree weather?

As he stood up, though, his frame stirred a familiarity in Violet that made her palms sweat buckets.

“Oh, God.”

It was her dad. He was back, standing in their front yard after three years without a word.

Climbing out of her car, she tried to keep calm, studying the changes in him. He had cut his hair short and put on weight. He looked healthy and clean-cut, like a guy with an office job who drove back and forth to work in rush-hour traffic.

And so different from the man he’d been for them.

Blinding rage and the sting of betrayal boiled to the surface, making her question harsher than she intended. “What are you doing here?”

If he was surprised by her anger, he didn’t show it. “Hello, Violet. It’s good to see you,” he said, ignoring her question.

“What are you doing here?”