When Love Matters Most

He took a step forward, Sniff trailing him, and smiled. “Are you ready for us?”

She gave a slight shake of her head, not so much to indicate no, but almost as if clearing her mind of whatever had preoccupied her. Before she could say anything, Heather filled the silence.

“Madison, this is Sergeant Enrique Vasquez, aka Pitbull, and his canine partner, Sniff.”

“Officer Rick,” Madison said with frost in her voice, and Rick’s smile faded. Apparently, she wasn’t inclined to let bygones be bygones.

“You’ve met?” Heather asked, obviously confused.

“Yes,” they responded in unison.

Heather glanced from one stern face to the other and backed up. “Okay, then. I’ll just get back to work.”

Madison gave Rick one more long, hard look before stepping forward and bending down to greet Sniff. Her features softened; the dog’s good nature must have won her over. By the time she straightened and extended a hand to Rick, the reserve had returned.

“As you know, I’m Madison Long,” she said in a perfunctory manner, putting the emphasis on know, and flipped her braid over her shoulder. “Follow me, please.”

Rick tapped his thigh, and had Sniff heeling next to him as he followed her. Madison’s braid swung across her back with each step she took. Glancing at Heather, he saw her bemused expression and wondered what had caused it. Then he noticed the duffel he’d forgotten and rushed back to grab it before joining Madison.

“How’s Zeke?” was the first thing he asked when they were in the examination room.

“He’s coming along nicely.”

“That’s terrific. Can I see him when we’re done here?”

“Of course,” she said, gathering everything she needed for Sniff’s exam.

She was being professional and courteous, but there was a distinct remoteness in her voice and demeanor. Conscious of the duffel in his right hand, he wondered how smart an idea that was. “The unit’s retiring Zeke,” he offered as an olive branch.

Her hands stilled and she gave him a contemplative look before nodding, but her cool formality remained as she opened a cabinet to get additional supplies. There was something...out of character about her expression. The lines bracketing her mouth were a dead giveaway that she laughed more than she frowned. He shifted the duffel from one hand to the other, then placed it on a chair in the corner of the room. “Look, I’m sorry for the way I acted when we first met.”

She turned back to him, and he saw the surprise on her face.

“It was a hell of a day. Zeke being hurt wasn’t all of it.”

“I heard on the news that an officer was shot...and that he passed away... I’m sorry...” Her voice rang with sincerity and compassion.

“Yeah. Jeff didn’t make it.” Rick broke eye contact, reached down and stroked Sniff’s back. The grief was still too raw. The dog raised his head, tongue lolling, adoration in his eyes that never failed to melt Rick’s heart.

“What will happen to Zeke?” Madison interrupted his thoughts.

Rick’s eyes lifted to hers and he could see she was moved, too. The fact that she seemed to care about Jeff and about Zeke said a lot about her. “Jeff’s family—his wife and son—want to keep Zeke. Zeke mattered to Jeff and is therefore important to his family.” He cleared his throat with a small cough and changed the subject to a more practical matter. “SDPD will pick up the cost of Zeke’s treatment and rehabilitation. Whatever it takes, just do what’s best for him. We’ll help the family with some retraining so Zeke can adapt to being a pet. Jeff was a good cop...a good man. He’ll be missed and not just by his family.”

“I’m so sorry,” Madison repeated in a whisper, and briefly rested a hand on his forearm.

“Thanks.” The sense of loss and futility, the sudden rush of emotion, was threatening to strangle Rick. He coughed again to try to cover up his feelings, but the sorrow was backing up in his throat. He grabbed his duffel and held it out to her. “We got off on the wrong foot the other day. I brought you something. Sort of a peace offering.”

Her gaze slid from his eyes to the black, well-worn bag and back. “You’re giving me a used gym bag?”

His nervous, amused laughter burst forth. He wasn’t usually this awkward around women. But then he generally didn’t start out from such a deficit. “No. Of course not!” He chuckled and fumbled with the zipper before placing the bag on the chair and unzipping it. He reached in and handed her a brightly wrapped bunch of flowers. “These are for you.”

Her eyebrows seemed to be stuck under her bangs, but at least the corners of her mouth had turned up. She took the bouquet from him. “You brought me flowers?”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “Yeah. It’s a small token of apology. I was a jerk and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” She raised the bouquet to her nose and took a deep breath. “I love freesia. They smell heavenly.”

He had no idea which of the colorful flowers was freesia, but he’d have to remember the name. It had evidently done the trick. He was surprised by and appreciative of the ease with which she’d put their awkward beginning behind her. No stalling. No making him grovel.

She retrieved a jug from the cabinets and filled it with water. When she’d placed the flowers in it, she lifted them to her nose again, closing her eyes as she inhaled. She opened her eyes again, and her gaze locked with his. He could have sworn he heard the clock on the wall ticking the seconds away as they stared at each other. There was something unfathomable in the depths of her eyes. “Sniff...” he finally said.

Madison smiled, took a treat out of her lab coat pocket and offered it to the dog.

Sniff accepted it politely. She lowered to one knee beside the dog. “What brings you here today, my friend?” she asked while she checked Sniff’s eyes and heart rate.

Rick noted the tender, caring way Madison touched and manipulated Sniff’s joints. She immediately eased up when he flinched as she moved his hind left leg. She raised her eyes, a hand on Sniff’s back. “Cruciate ligament acting up?”

Rick nodded. She’d obviously checked the file. “I know he’s not that old, but I want his policing days behind him soon.”

Madison had a thoughtful expression on her face. “He’s more than a tool to you, isn’t he?”

Through her work, she must have discovered that very few handlers were able to maintain the detachment from their dogs to consider them “tools.” Rick and Sniff were a team. He cared about Sniff as much as he cared about his two-legged colleagues. He nodded again, slowly.

As he watched Madison continue her exam, he felt a peculiar churning in his gut. Yeah, he’d had breakfast at six, grabbed a quick sandwich for lunch and it was almost five now, but he didn’t think the sensation had anything to do with being hungry.

Rick shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He thrust his hands back into his pants pockets. He didn’t want to dwell on the reason he’d done it—the fact that all of a sudden he was tempted to reach out and discover the texture of Madison’s springy red hair or how smooth her complexion really was. He liked women. Sure. Too much sometimes. But this felt different somehow, and he’d just met her. He considered how gentle she was with his dog.

That’s it! It was Sniff, he rationalized. Anyone who loved his dog was okay by him. That was all. He cleared his throat, wondering if he was coming down with a bug, and tried to ignore the strange sensation in his stomach.

Madison cocked her head slightly and shone a light into Sniff’s right ear. “You would’ve initiated the process to retire Zeke, even if I hadn’t bullied you into it,” she said, switching the light to the dog’s other ear.

Rick laughed. The thought that she’d be able to bully him into anything struck him as ludicrous—but judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t amused. “Yeah,” he said, sobering. “Of course. Zeke’s earned retirement.” Seeing that she was about to give Sniff a cortisone injection for the pain in his leg, he bent down to soothe and distract his dog.

Rick’s head was only a foot or so from hers, and her scent swirled around him. It was something subtle and musky. It caused an uncomfortable itch at the back of his neck. He reached behind him to scratch at it. “So has Sniff,” he went on. “And I don’t want him getting injured to earn it.”

Madison looked up at him again, and he noticed that her green eyes were specked with gold, the irises rimmed with it. “Sorry,” he murmured, “what was that?” He’d entirely missed what she’d said.

She smiled again. “I asked what the SDPD usually does with service dogs when they retire. You told me what’s going to happen with Zeke. Is that typical? And what’ll happen to Sniff once he retires?” she asked while uncapping the hypodermic needle.

He shrugged. “In most cases, if a dog’s handler is able to, he or she will generally keep the dog. Sniff will live out his life with me.”

Madison gave Sniff his shot, the dog barely noticing the pinprick sensation. Seeing the look of understanding and concern in her eyes, Rick felt even more drawn to her.

“Jagger—our captain—he’s having a barbecue for the unit this weekend. On Sunday.” The words tumbled out before he realized he’d said them. Her eyes were questioning. She was no doubt trying to figure out what his declaration had to do with her. Before he could question his own sanity, he barreled on. “You’ve met Jagger and most of the unit already?”

She nodded, uncertainty still evident on her face.

“Why don’t you come with me?” he suggested. They both rose, and Sniff danced between them, knowing the routine well enough that he expected a dog treat after an exam. Madison didn’t disappoint him and offered him a biscuit she extracted from a glass jar on the counter, slipping some extras in her pocket.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?” He must have missed part of the conversation again. He didn’t understand the question.

“Why are you asking me to go with you?”

What was she expecting? It was just a spontaneous thing. Did she have to analyze it?

She must have sensed his confusion and clarified. “Are you inviting me so you can introduce me to the whole unit? To help me fit in?”

He laughed. “No. I’m asking you as...as my date.” He grinned, hoping it would seal the deal. He really wanted to get to know her better. The more he saw of her, the more he liked her.

Madison bent down to scratch Sniff behind the ears, pulling out another treat from her pocket and presenting it to him.

The fact that she seemed to be thinking about his invitation wasn’t a good sign. At least she hadn’t given him an outright no. But the “no” was coming. Rick could feel it. He was seldom wrong about women’s reactions to him. He supposed it would be understandable if she declined. They hadn’t had the smoothest of introductions, and he had to accept responsibility for that. He assumed his customary stance of hands in pockets, anticipating rejection.

Madison held his gaze for a long moment, until a smile spread across her face. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great. That’s great. Are we done here with Sniff?” It seemed he’d been wrong this time, and he was glad of it.

“Yes. Other than the cruciate, he’s in good health and obviously happy, but I agree that you should think about retiring him. His hind legs will only get worse with age and strenuous use. You want him home as a pet, enjoying a well-deserved retirement, before he injures himself and perhaps does permanent damage.”

“That’s the plan. Can I see Zeke now?”

Madison nodded and took him to the recovery area.

Zeke looked good, considering everything he’d been through. Madison explained that he was coming along nicely and could go to Jeff’s family in a few days.

When they’d finished with Zeke, Rick paused by the door. “I’ll pick you up at five on Sunday. Does that work for you?”

She nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“All right.” He was about to exit when he saw her grin. “I guess I’d better get your home address, right?”

“I guess.” She took a pen out of her pocket, scribbled an address and phone number on a sheet of paper and handed it to him. “See you Sunday.”

He folded the paper and tucked it in his shirt pocket, then gave her a jaunty little salute. “Yeah. I’m looking forward to it. Grab your leash,” he instructed Sniff. Tapping the side of his thigh, he had Sniff heeling again as he walked through the reception area.

“Everything okay?” Heather asked when he passed the reception counter.

Rick raised his eyes to the ceiling, and his expression made Heather giggle.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not the first man and you certainly won’t be the last to come in here and react to Madison like that.”

* * *

MADISON CLEANED UP the exam room. Since there were no patients waiting for her, she walked over to Heather and leaned on the reception counter.

“How’d it go with Enrique?” Heather asked with a smirk.

“Fine. Why do you call him that?”

“What? Enrique?”

“Uh-huh.”

Heather shrugged. “I think Enrique suits him better than Rick—too common. So does Pitbull.”

“What kind of alias is Pitbull anyway? Why do they call him that?”

“Logan told me it’s because he’s tenacious. About his work. About what matters to him.”

Oh, yes, Madison could see that. She could see him being very determined and stubborn, depending on the circumstances.

“You two met before?” Heather interrupted her thoughts. “And you didn’t remember him?”

“Oh, I remembered, all right,” Madison said.

“But you let me go on about him...”

“First, I didn’t know he was the sergeant. I thought his dog was Zeke, not Sniff. Also, you called him Enrique. I was introduced to him by Angela as Rick. No last name.”

Heather grinned. “Well, I really do think Enrique suits him better. He’s not keen on it... I like it, though. I think it actually amuses him when I call him that. The aka suits him, too, but in a different way. Pitbull fits his personality. Enrique... Well, he’s got that whole sexy Latino thing going for him, and that appeals to me!”

Madison chuckled.

“What can I say? I’m attracted to tall, dark, good-looking men.”

Madison felt her eyes widen. It occurred to her that she might be treading on Heather’s territory by having accepted a date with Rick. “Are you...together?”

Heather laughed, as well. “No! We’re not.” She got up and walked to the printer. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she retorted, “But a girl can dream, can’t she?” She grabbed a printout and left the reception area, her laughter drifting over to Madison.

Madison watched Heather walk away, but her thoughts were on a tall, dark and decidedly handsome cop. Yeah, a girl could dream.

CHAPTER FOUR

RICK RODE HIS Harley-Davidson Electra Glide onto the narrow driveway at Madison’s house. He shut off the engine and removed his helmet. The small cottage-like house wasn’t what he’d expected. As structured, organized, practical as Madison seemed to be, he’d expected something a little more...well, a little less fanciful. Whimsical was a word he couldn’t remember ever using, but that was what popped into his mind. It made him think of the houses the hobbits occupied in the Lord of the Rings movies.

He remembered his parents taking him to all three films in the series when he’d first lived with them. He smiled at the memory of how they’d tried to translate, in their broken Spanish, some of the finer points related to Middle Earth that he hadn’t understood, despite the fact that he’d spoken English reasonably well as a kid.

Just thinking about it gave him a warm feeling he’d never experienced prior to being part of the Stewart clan. Madison’s place made a similar impression on him.

Her house was well maintained, neat and orderly, if on a small scale. From what he’d seen, neat and orderly defined Madison. He dismounted and grabbed the spare helmet that had been strapped to the back carrier of his bike, then made his way to the front door.

He knocked and glanced at the planter next to him. It didn’t surprise him that he couldn’t see a single dead petal or leaf on the colorful, sweet-smelling plants or in the container. The flowers were so perfect he was tempted to touch them, to make sure they were real. He was a stickler for cleanliness, but he couldn’t consider himself particularly neat. It was almost impossible, living with a police dog.

When the door opened, he felt like a teenager experiencing his first high-school crush.

Madison was wearing a flowing, frilly, multihued summer dress that might have looked fussy on someone else. On her it looked... He couldn’t find the word for it, other than right. Her hair was in some fancy updo, little ringlets teasing the sides of her face. She wore dangly earrings. And her lips, with that beguiling smile, glistened with some sort of shiny stuff as if...well, as if she’d just been kissed and her lips were still moist from it.

He rubbed a hand over his stomach where a knot was forming because the thought of kissing her was all too tempting. Watching those lips, he saw her smile fade. He shifted his gaze to her eyes and noticed her staring at his motorcycle. He glanced over his shoulder at his bright blue bike—his pride and joy—wondering what had put the look of consternation on her face. There wasn’t anything wrong with his bike. He’d polished it to a gleam that morning. He glanced back at her. “Is something wrong?”

She motioned toward the Harley. “You brought a motorcycle.”

“Yes.”

“Look at me.” She gestured with a hand from her torso to her feet. “How am I supposed to ride on that thing in this?”

Rick did look at her. The light material fluttered in the gentle breeze, accentuating the curves he admired so much, the hem ending just above slim, shapely ankles. And he looked down at her feet, virtually naked in the high-heeled, delicate, almost nonexistent sandals she wore. He understood her dilemma, and felt a little foolish. “It’s a barbecue we’re going to,” he said in self-defense. He indicated his own faded jeans and white T-shirt. “You know, burgers, fries, apple pie and beer.”

Madison’s eyebrows furrowed. Obviously, he’d said the wrong thing.

Rick tucked the spare helmet under his arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I’d be bringing my bike. It didn’t occur to me that it would be a problem.” He dropped his gaze to her feet again, those darn sexy feet with the orangey polish on the toenails. “You can’t ride in those shoes. Do you have some sneakers or something?” He almost groaned at the look she gave him. He’d managed to put his foot in his mouth again.

“Do you really expect me to get on that thing with you? As far as my outfit goes, you’re taking me to meet your boss and your colleagues. My clients. I know I’ve already met most of them at the clinic. But that was work and I was in work clothes. Did you expect me to wear jeans?”

Rick felt frazzled and was starting to think this was a big mistake. He wasn’t usually an impulsive person, and this seemed to be a perfect example of why he shouldn’t be. “Well, yeah. That’s what they’ll all be wearing.”

“And their wives or girlfriends?”

“Much the same. But you look great!” he added hastily, forcing a too-wide smile and trying to appease her or at least recover some of the ground he seemed to be losing fast. “Really beautiful.”

Her frown was more pronounced as she eyed his bike again. “I’ll get my keys and we can take my Cayenne instead,” she decided.

He waited until she’d turned her back, then rolled his eyes. She disappeared inside her house but left the door ajar. Before Rick had a chance to wonder why she hadn’t invited him in, a big silver-gray dog, a beautiful Alaskan malamute, sauntered into the doorway. Rick wasn’t afraid of dogs—obviously not with his profession—but he knew all dogs could be protective of their handlers, uh, owners. And their territories. In this case, the dog seemed relaxed, even friendly, although he had to weigh at least a hundred and twenty pounds. There’d be a lot of power in the dog’s broad jaw. Madison hadn’t mentioned anything about having a dog, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. He wouldn’t have expected one quite so large, though. Rick tucked his hands in his pockets and smiled. “How’s it going?”

The dog plopped down right in the middle of the doorway, raised his snout and let out a woo-hoo sound.

He didn’t look menacing. Rick held out a hand for the dog to sniff. When that went well, he crouched down and scratched him behind the ears, all the while wondering what was taking Madison so long to find her keys. He might not have known her well, but one thing he’d gathered from her office and her house—she was organized and neat, meticulously so. He would’ve thought she’d know exactly where her keys were. She should have been back already.

To pass the time, Rick ran a hand along the dog’s silky coat.

He caught a whiff of that alluring musky scent of Madison’s before he saw her enter the vestibule from a hallway to the left.

“Oh, I’m glad you met Owen. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Seeing her, he nearly toppled over. He steadied himself with a hand on the railing.

He’d been disappointed that she was averse to riding a motorcycle, something he had a zeal for. He’d also been a bit baffled by her apparent lack of spontaneity. But now, seeing her... Wow!

She didn’t seem to be holding keys. Instead, she’d reappeared wearing dark skinny jeans, a snug long-sleeved T-shirt and—biggest surprise of all—low-heeled biker boots. She’d undone the arrangement of her hair, and all that springy red now rioted around her face and shoulders, nearly down to her waist.

“You changed?” Rick immediately felt ridiculous about stating the obvious, but his brain cells must have gone into a coma. He couldn’t think straight, staring at her looking so undeniably hot.

He rose, and she gave him a flirty smile. If she’d appealed to him before, what he saw now could drive him crazy. It wasn’t about the clothes or how sexy she looked. Okay, that didn’t hurt, he corrected himself. But it was about her spontaneity and her willingness to change her plans—and her clothes. This woman was someone he could really fall for.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “You’d made your point.”

“Sorry? What?” He’d been so distracted again he’d lost the train of their conversation.

She smiled, showing even, white teeth between sexy, full lips. “I had to change to be able to ride on your motorcycle.” She slid an elastic off her wrist and reached up to tie her hair in a ponytail. “I’m glad Owen kept you company while I was gone,” she said, and gave the dog an affectionate hug before sending him out into the yard.

“Great dog. Big dog!” Rick said as they watched him find the perfect spot on the grass. When Owen sauntered back, Madison placed a kiss on his snout, signaled him to go inside and closed the door behind her.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out the helmet he brought for her.

“Ready,” she said, accepting the helmet and putting it on as she preceded him down the steps.

Rick theatrically patted a hand over his heart.

* * *

SINCE IT WAS SUNDAY, they made good time to the captain’s house in Poway just off I-15, where the barbecue was being held. Logan O’Connor’s place was a sprawling bungalow with an ample backyard. That was handy, since there were a lot of people there.

Taking in the throng, Madison was glad she’d changed. As Rick had predicted, all the men wore jeans or shorts, and there wasn’t a single woman wearing a dress.

Shortly after their arrival, Logan asked for everyone’s attention and made a toast to Jeff Bradford, their fallen colleague. Logan said that Jeff’s widow had declined to attend; her loss was too recent, her pain too raw. One by one, all the cops present shared their most memorable story about Jeff. Then they all agreed to put aside the sadness and use the occasion to celebrate Jeff’s life.

Rick introduced Madison to everyone she didn’t know. It was nice to see the cops she’d already met through work outside the clinic environment. See them relaxed. Having fun. They were welcoming and friendly, even if a few reacted with raised eyebrows or meaningful looks cast toward Rick. A couple of the single cops—the ones who’d flirted with her the most outrageously at the clinic—jokingly pretended to be heartbroken that she’d chosen Rick over them. Mostly they did it out of earshot of their dates, but the few women who heard didn’t seem to take offense.

It felt like a big, boisterous extended family, and everyone appeared to get along. Madison noticed only one person who appeared not to fit in. He sat by himself in a corner of the yard, a bottle of beer clasped in his hand. At first, she didn’t think he was a cop. He didn’t look like one. He was heavy and out of shape. She hid her surprise when Rick introduced him as Tom Brody, a K-9 Unit officer. She hadn’t met him at the clinic yet, which was fine with her. There was something about him that made her uncomfortable. In a group where everyone was having a great time, he seemed sullen.

Madison was glad when Rick moved her along toward the two police dogs that were present. He introduced her to Boomer, Logan’s explosives-detection dog. The other dog, Sawyer, was one of the newest dogs in the unit. He was still in training to be a cadaver dog.

Once she’d met everyone, they circled back to join Logan, who was standing by his barbecue.

“Can I get you a drink?” Rick asked her.

“That would be nice.”

He excused himself to move to where the coolers were, returning a short while later. He held a well-chilled bottle of beer and a can of Coke. He offered her the beer.

Madison wasn’t a big fan of beer. In fact, she’d never had a full bottle in her life. She didn’t want to be rude to their host or offend Rick, but she couldn’t stomach the stuff. “Why don’t you have the beer, and I’ll take the Coke?” she suggested, reaching for the soda instead.

“Sorry, but that’s mine. When I ride the bike, I don’t drink.”

Logan snatched the opened beer bottle from Rick. “Thanks,” he said to Rick, and tapped the bottle against the can of Coke Rick held in his hand. “Since this is my place, I’m not driving anywhere. How’d you know I wanted a cold one?” Before Rick could reply, Logan turned to Madison. “Presumptuous of him. Thinking you’d want a beer without asking you. And not even bringing you a glass!” He made a tsking sound. “Personally, I picture you more of a wine drinker.” He took a sip of the beer. “I’m thinking white wine. A well-oaked chardonnay?”

She laughed and he smiled in return. “I take it that means I’m correct?”

“It sure does. And I’d love a glass of chardonnay.”

Logan grinned at Rick, handed him his bottle and smacked him on the back. “Hold this for me, will you, while I get Madison a drink?”

Madison watched Rick for some adverse reaction, but he didn’t seem to mind. She liked a confident man who wasn’t easily offended and wasn’t unreasonably jealous.

They watched Logan’s retreating back, saw him stop occasionally to chat with a guest or two, then disappear into his kitchen through a set of sliding doors.

Rick motioned with his Coke bottle toward the doors. “You just experienced firsthand why he’s called Jagger.”

“Jagger?”

“You know the Rolling Stones?”

“Of course.” She was perplexed and amused. “What are you getting at?”

“Well, let’s just say that the captain has moves like Jagger.”

Madison laughed. “I assume you don’t mean on the dance floor, like in the song by Maroon 5? ‘Moves Like Jagger’?”

Rick raised his soda bottle to her in salute and took a sip. “I’ll let you be the judge of that. And speaking of...” His words trailed off when Logan rejoined them and handed Madison a glass of wine.

“So, Madison,” Logan began. “You’re from El Paso.”

She wondered how he’d known that. She hadn’t shared much about herself with the cops who came to the clinic. But people talked. Including Heather, the clinic’s receptionist. It occurred to her that being the captain of the unit, he might have done a background check on her when she’d been assigned to take care of the SDPD dogs. She wasn’t sure that was acceptable procedure, but realized it happened.

“And your father is Patrick Long, Supreme Court judge, correct?” he continued.

“That’s right.”

“My father used to be a police chief. He had some dealings with your father concerning matters that had fallen under your father’s jurisdiction. He held him in high regard,” Logan added.

That answered her question about how he’d known where she was from.

Rick let out a low whistle. “Your father’s a judge?”

Madison nodded. A lot of men were intimidated by what her father did for a living. She expected a cop wouldn’t be, but you never knew.

“Impressive,” was Rick’s reply.

He didn’t seem daunted. That was positive—and refreshing.

“With your family in El Paso, what brought you to our fair city?” Logan asked.

She was a private person, but one thing she didn’t mind talking about was the reason she’d moved to San Diego—her research. Still, it was a hefty subject to get into, and she had a tendency to bore people with it. Rick must have picked up on her hesitation, because he interjected smoothly. “C’mon, Jagger. Save the interrogation for business hours.”

Logan didn’t seem disturbed in the least. Madison sensed there was more than a professional relationship between these two cops based on the way they bantered back and forth; they were friends, too.

“You’ve got a point.” He smiled at Madison. “I didn’t mean to pry. I’m glad Rick brought you, and I hope you enjoy yourself.”

Logan excused himself to play host to his guests, and soon he started preparing dinner. Madison knew he wasn’t married and she surmised he didn’t have a date. She did, however, see exactly how attentive and smooth he was with his female guests.