Page 56 of Sweet Temptation

“Unfortunately. And it usually kicks in when we’re about five seconds from being attacked by some hothead.”

“Really?”

“Pre-attack indicators. You learn to spot them and diffuse a situation before it turns violent.”

“Interesting.” I laid the dishes out on the bar. I had a small dining table against the living room windows, between the sitting area and the sunroom, but I rarely used it. And maybe I figured if I sort of “set” the bar right now, less likely he’d take his food and go shut himself into the guest room again? “So… the zone, for you, is a brief concentration of focus that saves your ass?”

“Or my client’s ass,” he said, glancing at me. “But it can also last for a while. Like if I’m working an undercover operation or surveillance.”

Right. Last night, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d spent some time looking up his security company and poring over their website. It said they specialized in “elite security services,” including investigation, consultation and protection.

The Sentinel company logo was a badass dragon with its wings and claws out.

I still wasn’t sure what exactly his work entailed, or if the dragon meant that he and/or his partners had a subtle geek streak. But I tried to picture Ronan hunkered down in his car, “in the zone,” while on a stakeout, like in the movies.

“Maybe we’re not so different, then,” I offered, as we started filling our plates. There was chicken souvlaki, Greek salad, and lemon potatoes that smelled like the best things since spanakopita. Fortunately for me, he’d ordered pretty much everything I would’ve ordered.

“What makes you say that?” he asked after a moment.

“Well, in your zone, you protect people. And in mine, I make them happy.”

“Happy…” he repeated. “That’s how you see your job as a musician?”

“Absolutely. And I don’t think anyone could feel truly happy if they don’t feel safe first.”

He didn’t say anything about that. He sat down at the bar, though.

I took it as a tiny victory.

I sat down two stools over and we started eating in silence. I would’ve kept talking, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I was aware that I probably would’ve told him my entire life story on the spot, if he asked for it. He was pretty easy to talk to, when he wasn’t telling me what to do.

I wasn’t sure yet how I felt about that.

Maybe it was his silence. It was attractive and unnerving all at once. He seemed so comfortable with himself, in my home, in yesterday’s clothes.

Obviously, he was the strong, silent type.

The type I liked to crack open with music, flirting… anything. I hadn’t figured out, though, what would open this one up. If anything would.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Were you ever planning to tell me about the police coming out to your neighbor’s place the night before the attempted break-in?” He met my eyes. “Old lady thinks-you’re-as-sweet-as-peppermint-candy… Someone set off her alarm?”

Well, shit. How the hell did he hear about that?

I hadn’t even mentioned that to Brody.

“I have no idea what set off her alarm,” I said, slowly. “But yes, the police came out. Why?”

“And your equipment got stolen outside an event that same night?”

Okay, he definitely heard that from Brody.

“It wasn’t equipment. It was a wardrobe case. They kinda look the same, but I hardly think any thief in their right mind wanted that many sparkly jumpers and custom made push-up bras.”

He stared at me, unamused. “You didn’t think this was worth mentioning to me?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re unrelated events.” I wasn’t sure, but just like everything else, I didn’t want to blow it out of proportion.

“That’s my job to decide,” he informed me. “Not yours.”

---