Frisk Me(47)

“Because it wasn’t there shining in my eyes,” she interrupted.

“—But after you walked away I realized…you’re not the type of woman who wants a story that’s handed to her. You’re the type of woman who wants the story she has to chase.”

Ava blinked. The observation was so shrewd, so dead-on, that she nearly gave him a round of applause.

“You’re wrong,” she lied, sitting back and studying him.

He grinned. “Am I?”

Ava sucked the inside of her cheek between her teeth and considered her best move.

The woman in her was dying to tell him the truth…to tell him everything about her, the way she would if they were just Ava and Luc.

But they weren’t Ava and Luc. They were Ava Sims, reporting for CBC, and Officer Luc Moretti.

If she told him the truth—that she really did like a story she had to chase after—he’d run.

Because Ava would bet serious money that Luc was that story. And not in the way her bosses expected.

Still, she had to give him something. Wasn’t the entire point of this dinner to earn his trust?

To let him into her life a little so he’d let her into his?

The more she scraped beneath the gorgeous surface of Officer Moretti, the more she realized that he wasn’t the open book he pretended to be.

And if she wanted to find out what really happened to Shayna Johnson, she was going to have to put a little skin in the game.

“Okay,” she said, allowing only the smallest sigh. “You caught me. The truth is, these fluffy, shiny pieces…the three-hour scripted specials…I don’t love them.”

He sipped his wine and watched her. “Then why did you agree to it?”

She fiddled with her fork. “It’s a no-brainer. When your boss’s boss offers you a prime-time slot, you take it. Especially when…”

“Especially when…?” he prompted when she broke off.

“Especially when Gwen Garrison is getting ready to retire. And that’s confidential,” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Don’t tell a soul.”

“Believe me, I won’t,” he said with a little laugh. “I don’t even know who Gwen Garrison is.”

A laugh bubbled out of Ava. A genuine one. He didn’t know who Gwen Garrison was. The most famous anchorwoman on television, and he didn’t know her.

It figured. Figured that she’d fall for the one guy who couldn’t care less how close she was to the big time. Didn’t even know what the big time was.

And she was falling for Luc. She couldn’t deny that now.

She idly scratched her temple. “Let’s just say that if all goes according to plan, I’ll be the next Gwen Garrison.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“It’s a huge thing,” she replied.

Luc’s blue eyes held hers. “That’s not what I asked. I asked if it was a good thing.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice tripping over the lie. “Of course.”

His eyes flickered with some emotion she didn’t yet recognize from him…disappointment?

But instead of pressing her, he merely picked up his fork and resumed eating. “Say what you want, Sims. I think we both know this whole thing is all because you’ve been pining for me for three long years since the parking ticket incident.”

“Yes, that’s definitely it,” she said, knowing he was letting her off the hook. “I spent three years in the prime of my life lusting after a traffic patrol officer who gave my news van a parking ticket, and decided that rather than just call him up and ask him out on a date, I’d mastermind a national television series on him.”

Luc nodded. “I like a woman that goes after what she wants. As long as she’s gorgeous and what she wants is me.”

Ava refused to let herself blush because he called her gorgeous. It was just a line. She knew it was a line. And yet…

“I never said I want you,” she said.

“You didn’t have to, Sims.” He winked. “It’s all right there in your eyes, baby. All in the eyes.”

Ava took a bite of duck and shook her head. “You’re a piece of work, Officer.”

And I like you, she added silently. Very much.

After dinner, Ava let him walk her home. And by let, she actually crossed her fingers in hopes that he would offer.

He did.

“I still can’t believe you paid for dinner,” Ava said, giving him a chiding look as they strolled in the general direction of her apartment.

He glanced down at her. “Let a woman pay on the first date? Never.”

“I told you, the station would pay,” she said. “And the fact that my employer would foot the bill should make it rather clear that it wasn’t a date.”

He smiled and held her elbow as they crossed an uneven part of the sidewalk so she wouldn’t teeter in her high heels. “You keep telling yourself that, Sims.”

She huffed out a breath.

He really was cocky as all hell. He’d slipped the server his credit card while she was checking her phone. It wouldn’t have bothered her if she hadn’t known that his cop salary likely didn’t have room for trendy dinners. Especially when it had been her idea.