Holding her tongue was killing Eve. She could hear the frustration in the detectives’ voices and it broke her heart. She hated to send them on a wild goose chase, but what else could she do? Telling the truth wasn’t an option.

Alec pulled the bag of coffee beans out of the freezer. “Did you look at the security tapes?”

As Eve took the bag from him and poured the beans into the grinder, her hands were steady but she was shaking inside.

“We did,” Jones admitted. “This man visited Mrs. Basso.”

“But not Ms. Hollis,” Alec finished.

Eve realized he’d planned ahead and doctored the video. She was both grateful and admiring.

The din of the grinder blocked out all conversation for a few moments, then she filled the filter and turned on the coffeemaker. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and faced the two detectives.

“I really wish I could help you,” she said softly.

Ingram smiled grimly and toyed with his handlebar mustache. “We think you can, Ms. Hollis. You’ll be seeing us around until we’re sure either way.”

“I’ll have to stock up on coffee, then.”

Alec moved the mugs from the counter to the island. “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way . . . Cream and sugar, anyone?”

Eve was curled up on her living room sofa watching Wildest Police Videos when the knock came to her front door.

She debated ignoring it. Today was the first day in three weeks of training where she didn’t feel like she had been hit by a truck. She didn’t want any unwanted visitors ruining it. Even with her ability to heal rapidly, Mark combat training was hard work and it was six days a week. She’d come to seriously appreciate the classroom-only days. And Sunday. Now known affectionately as “vegetation day.”

The knocking came again, louder.

With a small grunt, Eve pushed to her feet. Out of habit, she paused at the console table by the door and withdrew her gun. Then she peered through the peephole. Alec stood there, smiling.

“Angel,” he called out in that rumbling purr that caressed like warm velvet. “It’s just your friendly neighbor.”

Pulling the door open, she waved at him with her gun hand. He was wearing shades, a tank top, knee-length Dickies shorts, and pure sex appeal. No one wore it better.

He pushed his sunglasses up and smiled. “Pretty soon you’ll be more deadly than that weapon.”

“I still like the way it feels.” She hefted it reverently. “Weighty, solid.”

With one hand on the jamb, Alec leaned in. She watched, riveted. He stopped with his lips a hairs-breadth away from hers.

“I’ve got something weighty and solid,” he murmured, his breath gusting across her lips. “Wanna take it for a ride?”

“That’s so crude,” she whispered back. “I think it turned me on.”

He kissed her. “I was talking about my bike.”

Her mouth made a moue.

“I want to take you out,” he said. “Let’s have some fun and relax a little.”

“We can have fun here.”

“And we will.” His dark eyes burned with promise. “Later.”

“What’s wrong with now?”

Alec laughed. “Much as I love having sex with you—and you know I do—we’ve never been on a date.”

Eve frowned. “A date?”

“You. Me. Outside. In the sun. Doing things together in public that won’t get us arrested.”

“What things?”

He shouldered his way in and plucked the gun from her hand. “I was thinking we could take a ride down the coast to San Diego. It’s a beautiful day.”

She watched him return her weapon to its padded case and zip it up. Then he tucked it back into the drawer.

A date. Something warm and fuzzy expanded in her chest. “Let me change.”

“Don’t. You look hot.”

Eve looked down at her outfit of shorts and tank top. Totally, ridiculously unsafe for motorcycle riding. But then again, there were some perks to being marked. Alec had hyper reflexes and she was built like a tank. Kinda. Sorta.

“If you turn off the television,” she said, “I’ll go get my boots.”

Alec caught her arm. “Wear those.” He pointed to the flirty flip-flops tucked beneath the console.

“Not very practical on a bike,” she pointed out.

“Let’s be impractical. It’s Sunday. You’re supposed to take the day off.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

“Have I ever told you,” he purred, “how sexy those little flowers you have painted on your big toes are?”

Eve slipped on the shoes. “What’s in San Diego?”

“Seahawks versus Chargers.”

“That’s such a guy date,” Eve teased, smiling.

He grabbed her keys and shades. Then he pulled her out to the hallway and locked the door. “We’ll take care of the girl parts later.”