She looked toward the quiet office door.
With Deck out of town, she might actually get one evening without being interrogated about her personal life by a retired detective who still looked at her like she was fifteen and had missed curfew. Which, considering her current personal life involved the District Attorney and a very memorable couple of days, was a small mercy.
Her phone was already in her hand before she could talk herself out of it.
She opened her messages.
Scrolled down.
Reid.
His name alone was enough to send a slow, traitorous warmth curling through her. She could still feel his breath at her ear, the rough scrape of his jaw against her collarbone, the way he’d said her name like it was the only word he knew.
She’d spent all day pretending it hadn’t happened.
Now she was about to invite him over for dinner.
She stared at the blank text box for a long moment.
Then she typed:
Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?
She eyed the words, grimaced, and deleted it.
Typed again.
I’m making dinner tonight. You’re welcome to join me.
She frowned.
That sounded like she was inviting him to a zoning committee meeting.
She sighed and typed one more time.
Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?
Her pulse kicked up, low and insistent. The last time she’d seen him, dinner had been an afterthought. They hadn’t made it that far.
Somewhere between Mercer’s file and Burke’s phone call, she probably should have decided this was a terrible idea. She didn’t.
Before she could change her mind, she hit send.
Then she immediately set the phone face down on the desk like it might detonate.
Three little dots appeared almost instantly.
Then disappeared.
Then came back.
Eleanor raised an eyebrow.
Reid was clearly enjoying himself.
Finally, the message came through.
Wait.
