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  “Are you saying he could have been a customer in my shop?”

  Miguel regretted the slight tremor of fear in her voice. “Oh, Layla. Please don’t worry about that. This is all a hypothesis. He also could have been standing across the street and spotted an opportunity. Everything at this point is guesswork.”

  “Has he hit any of the places twice?”

  Miguel shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t think you shouldn’t put an alarm in.”

  “Don’t worry. That’s definitely happening. So what you’re saying is, maybe he spotted me in the shop alone close to closing time. I can assure you no one will ever work the last shift alone again.”

  “That’s good. And yeah, he always seems to know when’s the best time to strike, either right before closing time on a slow night or whenever a business is short-staffed. Plus, he manages to get away without leaving a trail. He’s successfully avoiding any and all security cameras in the area, so he’s either a genius or a lucky motherfucker.”

  Layla laughed. “Ah, the never-dull life of a cop. No luck tracing the masks?”

  Miguel grinned, impressed by her question. “We’ve tried. Checked with local costume and Halloween shops. No one has bought all those masks at the same place. Plus, with Amazon and about a million other online shops, it’s a bit like finding a needle in a haystack.”

  “Must be frustrating for you.”

  He nodded. “You have no idea. All we can do is keep going over all the evidence, tracking down leads, and hoping we can catch the guy before someone else gets robbed. Or worse.”

  Layla toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “I’ll admit I’ve never been that up close and personal with a gun.”

  “You know, as a single woman living alone in the city, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to consider buying a gun for protection.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that ever since the robbery.”

  “I teach a gun safety course once a month. At the end of it, you can apply for a concealed weapon license. I can get the information to you if you decide you’re interested.”

  She smiled. “Thanks, Miguel. Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.”

  He took a sip of his beer, the two of them perusing the menu. Miguel kept sneaking glances at Layla, distracted by her. He hadn’t felt such an immediate attraction to someone since…

  Fuck. Since he’d fallen head over ass in love with his straight best friend.

  Miguel shoved Finn to the back of his mind, trying not to fall down that rabbit hole again. For months, he’d struggled with deciding whether or not he should talk to Finn about his feelings.

  Two things kept stopping him. One, he was terrified of freaking Finn out and making things awkward between him and his best friend if Finn didn’t feel the same. Of course, if it had just been that one reason, Miguel was pretty sure he would have already talked to Finn.

  No, it was the second reason that stopped him from saying anything.

  Miguel was ninety-nine percent sure Finn already knew how he felt. And he refused to acknowledge it, constantly putting out a pretty fucking strong “don’t go there” vibe whenever Miguel felt tempted to bring it up.

  Which answered the question he’d never asked.

  Finn wasn’t interested.

  Miguel had repeated that fact over and over in his mind about a million and twelve times in the past few months, but it wasn’t sinking in, wasn’t sticking. Which meant Miguel had spent too many nights alone with his hand because he hadn’t been able to move on, to ask someone else out.

  Until Layla.

  “So about this crazy family of yours…” he prompted.

  Layla grinned, then told him about her papa and four older brothers. She talked about losing her mama to cancer when Layla was only in sixth grade, and he’d reached out to hold her hand as she wiped away a tear.

  Then he shared about his childhood, about his mom, about how he’d always wanted siblings, about how his uncle was his idol. He told her he was bisexual, which surprised him. He’d always asserted that straight people never had to “come out” to tell others about their sexual preferences, so he didn’t have to either. But there was something about Layla that had him wanting to bare his soul. She was easy to talk to, with a great sense of humor and an optimistic view of life that wasn’t naïve or shaded by rose-colored glasses.

  She’d been interested about his bisexuality, but there hadn’t been a bit of judgment in her questions. Then she’d confessed to having a crush on another girl her freshman year in high school that ended when she and the girl shared an innocent kiss, and Layla had to admit it hadn’t done anything for her. He’d cracked up when she said that, after that kiss, she was forced to live with her “straightness.”

  Hours passed as they ate and drank, and Miguel found himself opening up to her about things he rarely spoke of, about his troubled childhood with the gangs and his anger toward his dad for deserting him and his mom.

  The waiter had to kick them out at closing time, and they’d both been surprised to discover it was so late.

  They hopped back on his motorcycle and rode together in silence to her place. Miguel was certain she was holding him even tighter during this ride, and he knew it wasn’t because she was afraid of falling off.

  “Need me to check under your bed for the boogeyman?” he joked as he parked his bike in front of her place.

  She grinned as she got off the bike and shook her head. “No. I’m okay.”

  Miguel hopped off his motorcycle. “I’m still going to walk you to the door.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  He locked the helmets onto his motorcycle, then took her hand as the two of them climbed the stairs to her apartment. Neither of them said anything as they walked upstairs.

  “You still walking to work?” he asked. She didn’t live in a dangerous area, but he was worried about her walking alone after dark.

  “Yesterday, I drove, but it meant feeding the meter all day, which was a pain. Today I was planning to grab a ride home with Seth, the guy closing up with me.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t feel safe in the city.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “You said it yourself. I’m going to be fine. Just taking me a couple of days to bounce back.”

  They stopped at the door as she dug into her purse for her keys.

  “Well. This is me. Would you like to come in for a drink? Wine? Coffee?”

  There was something about Layla that screamed innocence, even though she’d told him about her long-term boyfriend over dessert. Five years was a long time to go out with someone.

  “I appreciate the offer, but it’s getting late. I had a great time with you tonight.”

  She smiled. “Me too. You know…you could totally stop by the shop to check on me again sometime.”

  Miguel laughed. “I might just do that.”

  He wanted to kiss her. He had ever since picking her up at the coffee shop tonight. Actually, that wasn’t true. He’d wanted this kiss since the night of the robbery, since she’d looked at him with those deep brown, doe-like eyes and stolen a tiny piece of his heart.

  But he wasn’t going to do that, wasn’t going to take advantage of her when she was feeling vulnerable and scared.

  Layla licked her lips and gave him a shy smile. Then she lifted her face to him.

  Damn. She was the definition of temptation.

  “Layla,” he started, moving the tiniest bit closer to her.

  His phone vibrated loudly. He’d turned off the ringer during dinner, but technically—until the robbery case was solved—he was on call. It was his case.

  “Shit.” He stepped back and gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry. I need to…” He glanced at the screen and saw Higson’s number. “I have to take this.”

  He answered, not surprised when the other officer said, “Someone in a Darth Vader mask just robbed a convenience store on the corner of Doyle and Bank. Shots were fired this time.”
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br />   “I’ll be right there.” Miguel hung up. “I need to go. I had a great time tonight.”

  “So did I.”

  Miguel started to walk away, then turned back to her. “I’m going to call you tomorrow.”

  She laughed. “I’d like that. A lot.”

  Miguel waved as he said goodbye.

  As he hustled down to his motorcycle, he realized Layla had done the impossible.

  Made him forget about Finn for just a few short hours.

  Progress.

  Chapter Six

  Layla wiped a table with way more aggression than was necessary. She was feeling decidedly bitchy today, something that was obvious, given the wide berth her employees were giving her. She’d managed to snap at both of them several times over small shit, and if she weren’t in such a sour mood, she’d feel guilty for that.

  As it was, her mood only got progressively darker as the day wore on.

  She had seen Miguel once more since they’d gone out to dinner. They’d shared a quick lunch break at a deli down the street on Thursday. He hadn’t kissed her, but she’d wanted him to.

  Or at least, she did until she thought about Finn. Then she didn’t know what the hell she wanted.

  Lately it felt like Murphy’s Law was guiding every flipping minute of her life. She had invited Miguel to her place for dinner on Friday, but then her oldest brother, Tony, had shown up Friday morning for a surprise visit. Layla chose to call it a sneak attack.

  She’d begrudgingly canceled with Miguel, not willing to put the hot cop in front of the firing squad—AKA, her family—so soon. A lifetime with the Moretti boys had taught her how to play the game better, and rule one with her brothers was, “keep them in the dark for as long as possible.”

  Tony, the asshole, had remained all weekend, not leaving until Sunday evening. She’d called to invite Miguel over for pizza, but he’d been on duty. The only thing that had appeased her slightly was the fact Miguel had sounded like he was as disappointed as she was.

  She’d texted back and forth with Finn throughout the week as well, but she hadn’t mentioned the robbery or Miguel, wanting to talk to him about both in person.

  She knew Finn well enough to know he would freak out if she told him about Pennywise and the gun, and she didn’t want to ruin his trip to Vegas. He’d been looking forward to it.

  She also wasn’t sure exactly how he’d feel about Miguel. Finn had thrown her for a loop with that kiss. He’d mentioned wanting to talk to her about exploring her wild side before leaving, and she was pretty damn sure she knew what that meant. What she couldn’t figure out was what her answer should be.

  Layla had anticipated having this week alone to sort it all out in her mind, but then Pennywise had shown up, scared the fuck out of her and then tossed Miguel into her life.

  Now she was more confused than ever. And it didn’t help that her dreams had gotten decidedly kinkier this week as she’d begun alternating between Miguel and Finn as the hero in her fantasies. Both men had ignited some pretty powerful desires inside her, and her vibrator was getting one hell of a workout.

  Something had to give. And soon.

  Masturbation was one thing, but the lack of real sex was starting to get to her.

  But…achieving that goal was harder than she’d expected.

  Finn was her friend and she knew he wanted a relationship, something she couldn’t give him. Even though she wanted to expand on that kiss of his more than she cared to admit.

  And then there was Miguel. They’d only known each other a week, but it felt like longer. She’d felt an instant connection to him…an instant attraction.

  God. Maybe she should have just stuck it out with Marco. Because she sucked at playing the field.

  She tossed the dirty rag she’d been wiping the tables with into a tub of soapy water in the sink. “I’m going to do some paperwork in my office for a little while.” She ignored the audible sighs of relief both employees released as she walked away from them.

  Her eyes started to go fuzzy when she was still working on her computer two hours later, trying to finalize next week’s order. She rubbed them wearily. Layla shut the computer off, ready to kick off early.

  She’d go home and have a nap.

  She huffed a short breath and admitted the truth. She was going home to play with her vibrator.

  Then she’d take the nap.

  “Hey, stranger.”

  She glanced toward the door excitedly at the sound of Finn’s voice. She raced around her desk and hugged him. “You’re home!”

  Finn returned her embrace, keeping his arms wrapped around her for a solid minute. Then he pulled away slightly, his hands still resting on her waist. “I might go out and come back in again. That was a damn good welcome home.”

  She laughed. “I missed you, you lunatic. Did I win any money in the slot machine?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m afraid not. Fergus and I discovered we’re pretty shit gamblers.”

  “How was the conference?”

  She stepped back to her desk, leaning against it as Finn sat in one of the chairs in front of it. “Good. Informational.”

  “Does that mean you went to all the sessions like a good boy?”

  He chuckled tiredly. “Fergus is a pain in the ass when it comes to shit like that. Always was a good student.”

  “While you daydreamed and played hooky?”

  “I’ll have you know I was a solid C student. Didn’t fail. Just didn’t…”

  “Work too hard,” she finished for him.

  He grinned. “I have to admit it’s different when it’s your career you’re learning about. Heard some great presentations about hand-to-hand combat and learned about the latest in security systems.”

  “Speaking of which,” she said, taking the opening he’d just provided. “I know you and Fergus provide services to larger corporations, rather than personal security, but I was wondering if you’d be able to help me put an alarm system in here at the shop.”

  “Of course I will. Saw some really state-of-the-art stuff at the conference.”

  “Good, because…” she paused.

  “Because?”

  “Well. There was sort of an incident here last Monday night.”

  Finn’s eyes narrowed. “An incident?”

  “The store was robbed.”

  “What?” Finn stood up. “When? How?”

  “I was closing up and a guy broke in through the back kitchen door.”

  “Jesus.” Finn ran his hand through his hair. “Were you alone?”

  Layla nodded. “Yeah. He had a gun and—”

  “A gun?!”

  Yep. She’d known Finn wouldn’t take the news about the robbery well. He started cursing.

  “Why in the hell didn’t you call me? Tell me about this?”

  “You were in Vegas.”

  “So?”

  “It’s okay, Finn. He just asked for the money, I gave it to him, then he left. I called the cops and that was it.”

  “What did the guy look like?”

  “Pennywise.”

  “The clown?”

  She nodded. “He was wearing a mask.”

  “We texted all week, LJ. Why would you keep this from me?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry. I wanted you to enjoy your trip and the conference. Like I said, I’m fine.”

  He studied her face, and she winked, trying to prove to him she really was okay.

  “Don’t do that again,” he said, his hands cupping the sides of her face.

  “What? Wink?”

  “Leave me in the dark. We’re friends, LJ, and I care about you. The fact that someone held a gun on you scares the fuck out of me. I don’t care where I am or what time it is. Anything else like that ever happens to you, you call me. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Promise?” he added.

  “Promise.”

  Her insides heated and turned to goo over Finn’s concern. If she’d
told her brothers about the robbery—which she hadn’t because she wasn’t insane—they would have flipped out as well, and they probably would have demanded the same from her.

  And while she would have given that promise to her brothers begrudgingly, grumbling about their overprotectiveness, granting Finn the same vow didn’t bother her at all. Instead, it made her feel safe, cared for…horny.

  Okay, Jesus. Everything made her horny these days.

  Finn grasped her hand. “Show me the door he broke into.”

  She led him to the kitchen, showing him the newly repaired door. She’d had the repairman replace it with a steel door and add an extra dead bolt. It was probably overkill, but it made her feel better.

  Finn borrowed a tape measure, writing things down on a piece of paper she provided. “I’m going to go back to the office and start pricing out some alarm systems. I think we need to put surveillance cameras on both doors as well. That can be a pretty good deterrent by itself.”

  “Okay. Listen, I was hoping we could talk about that other thing you said…just before you left last week.”

  Finn didn’t hear her, clearly distracted, still looking around the kitchen, then walking back to the front door. “You’re lucky you weren’t hurt,” he murmured. “A fucking gun.”

  She wanted to talk to Finn about Miguel, and about Finn’s desire to discuss her wild side, but it was obvious the timing was wrong. He was measuring the large front window, still recording everything, still muttering about the danger she’d been in.

  Finally, he folded the paper and put it in his back pocket. “Did they catch the guy?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  He scowled, his eyes dark. “I’m going to call my dad. See if they have any leads.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said. She started to tell him that she was still in touch with Miguel, and she knew exactly what the police knew, but Finn didn’t give her a chance.

  “I’m going to start working on this today. Top priority.”