Page 27 of Lethal Danger

“You’re family?” Hawthorne’s voice surprised Jazz, maybe because he now stood closer, next to her with only Flash between them.

She quirked a wry smile. “Hard to tell, isn’t it?”

He tossed his head slightly like shaking off an incorrect idea. “All families have their issues.”

“Some more than others. Mine is probably messed up enough to be in one of your books.” Jazz smiled, but faltered as she heard what she’d just said. “I don’t mean my family’s full of criminals and murderers like the families Carson Steele investigates. I just mean…we’re not close.” And no one in her family had ever liked her. But she wouldn’t say that out loud. She was probably sounding pathetic enough as it was.

“I get it.” He gave her a friendly, gentle smile like he understood and wasn’t judging her. Hopefully.

“Wait, Carson Steele?” Nev stepped in front of Jazz to stare at Hawthorne more directly. “Are you Hawthorne Emerson? The writer?”

“Guilty.” He didn’t look bothered by the attention. He was probably used to it.

“You’re Jazz’s favorite author!” Nev’s voice grew higher and louder as she grabbed Jazz’s arm and squeezed her in close. “Oh, my goodness, girl,” Nev looked up at her, “you didn’t tell me.”

A smile stretched Jazz’s face at her BFF’s excitement. At least Nev was more coherent than Jazz when she’d learned Hawthorne’s identity. “I just found out.”

“Well, this is pretty awesome.” Nev turned a beaming grin on Hawthorne. “Never met an author before. You’re my favorite, too, though I don’t go quite as crazy over novels as this girl.” She hugged Jazz even tighter. “I have to wait for her to read your novels like three times before she’ll give ’em to me to read.”

Hawthorne’s bright eyes twinkled as he watched them. “I’m honored to have my work read by two such lovely ladies.”

“Ooh…” Nev winked at Jazz. “Smooth, too. Just like Carson.”

“Oh, stop.” Jazz pulled away and gave Nev a shove. “You’ll have to forgive Nevaeh. This is how she gets when she’s starstruck.”

Hawthorne laughed—a rich, masculine sound that sent a tickle of heat to Jazz’s belly. “I’m sure you’re just being kind.” His gaze rested on Jazz. “I wanted—”

“Team Leader to S4.” Butch Klika’s rough voice sounded over coms. “Report to accident location.”

He was calling it an accident? Maybe just in case anyone heard their radio chatter.

“That’s me.” Hawthorne tossed Jazz a parting glance. “Catch you later.”

Was that a hopeful note in his tone? Or maybe it was her imagination conjuring an echo of her own hope.

“He was going to ask you out.”

“What?” Heat rushed to Jazz’s face as she spun to her bestie.

“Totally.” Nev’s amused gaze locked on Jazz’s face. Probably on the tell-tale blush there. A massive grin spread Nev’s mouth as she read the signs, her tone lifting with the discovery. “And you were so hoping he would.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jazz looked away from Nev, but her eyes seemed determined to search for the man filling her thoughts.

“Uh-huh. That’s why you can’t stop watching him, and your cheeks are the color of Pops’ radishes.” A soft punch landed on Jazz’s upper arm. “Girl, don’t try to con your BFF.”

“Okay, fine.” Jazz gave up the hopeless attempt. Nev could read her like a book. “But what do you expect? He’s my favorite author. A little celebrity crush is normal.”

“And the man is super hot.”

Jazz arched an eyebrow. “Are you even allowed to notice that anymore, soon-to-be-Mrs. Branson Aaberg?”

“Hey, don’t mean I can’t admit the facts. He nowhere near as hot as my man, but that goes without saying.”

“Not that you’re biased or anything.” Jazz grinned.

“Don’t change the subject. You’re single. You can like him. You can go out with him.”

“Um, no. He’s Hawthorne Emerson.”

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