Page 25 of Burning Justice

Mrs. S.? That sure did sound like he was one of the “deli gang,” that group of special customers—regulars—her parents treasured.

Gemma went directly to the high top farthest from the cash register and deli counter, the one directly over which a TV blared the morning news, muffling their conversation from any prying, meddling, blind-date-fixer-upper ears. Brett pulled out a chair for her, then—typical cop style, she’d come to learn—took the one facing the door. In case any gun-wielding, bagel-thieving hoodlums mistakenly walked in.

Two seconds later, her mother brought over their coffees. “Black.” She handed one cup to Brett. “Light with two sugars for my little girl.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

As her mother walked away, Brett’s eyes followed her. “You know she’s looking at us over her shoulder. Your entire family is.”

“I know.” She took a sip of her mom’s awesome coffee blend. “I can feel their eyes drilling into my back.”

Brett nearly snorted his coffee. “I should probably warn you they tried to set me up with you a few months ago. That’s why I thought I recognized you the night of the fire. Every time I come in here, they point to your photo on the wall.”

She’d thought her face felt warm before. Now it felt as hot as the inside of a bagel oven. “Sorry about that. I wish they would stop playing matchmaker. It’s just that all my brothers are married. I’m their only child who isn’t.” She liked her independent lifestyle but still harbored a few regrets that she hadn’t found anyone to settle down with. Given what had happened four years ago, she’d found it an uphill battle to get close to a guy again.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Brett smiled. “I’m flattered they chose me for you.”

The way he’d said that sounded so intimate. At the risk of being even more thoroughly humiliated, Gemma asked the burning question she probably ought to keep to herself. “Why didn’t you take them up on it?”

He stared at his coffee a moment too long, telling her all she needed to know.

Because I’m not pretty enough. Not girly enough. And I’m too short.

“I just got out of a relationship,” he said, still staring at his coffee. “I basically got dumped, but I deserved it.”

She rested her forearms on the table and leaned in. “Why? What did you do?”

“Worked. Too much, I guess.” He pried the plastic lid off the cup and took a long sip. “We met right before the Torrance Lane fire. She freaked out when I got hurt.”

Gemma shrugged. “Maybe that was her way of showing she cared about you.”

He made a reluctant sound of agreement. “Maybe, but my burns were never life-threatening, and she knew it.”

“Then there was something else bothering her.”

“Yeah. Me.” He grunted. “After the fire, I spent most of the time—day and night—chasing down leads that I thought would prove that fire was arson. Even when I was home, our relationship was never my priority.”

“Sounds like she thought you’d checked out on her.”

“I did. It was probably for the best. I wasn’t cut out for her, and she wasn’t cut out for being the girlfriend of an ATF agent. When she gave me an ultimatum—asked me to quit my job—I walked out the door.”

“That’s a heavy ask.” One she’d never make of someone she loved. It was on the tip of her tongue to pry more into his love life, but it was none of her business. “What made you decide to become an ATF agent?”

“It started in the Marines. I hooked up with ARFF, the Corps’ Air Rescue and Firefighting unit.”

“ARFF? I’m sure Blaze would appreciate that.”

“True that.” Brett smiled. “When I mustered out, I’d planned to join the Denver Fire Department. Then something happened.”

“What?” She leaned in closer, close enough to determine that, for a guy, his dark blue eyes were beautiful. Like Caribbean waters at night, or so she imagined. Jetting off to the Caribbean was a travel list bucket item.

She jerked back. Oh jeez.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. So, what happened?” Aside from me being a dork.

“I fell in love.” Brett quickly added, “With dogs.”