Frisk Me(87)

The questions went on and on, and Luc forced himself not to snap at Ava that she already knew all of this stuff.

Because he wasn’t talking to Ava, friend and lover.

He was talking to Ava Sims, reporter. She looked the part too. She had on some expensive, sexy heels. Her hair was shiny and perfect and sort of hard looking, molded into big waves. Her glasses were nowhere in sight, nor were her yoga pants. She wore an emerald green blouse and black slacks. She looked pretty. Perfect.

He hated it. Hated her.

He wanted messy Ava back.

But messy, approachable Ava had been a fake, hadn’t she?

Because although he knew he’d seen glimpses of the real Ava—sweet, funny, and vulnerable—the aspiring anchorwoman part of her was bigger. Bolder.

It was this cold, calculating Ava that had ruthlessly dug into his past and then instead of talking to him about it, gone behind his back to talk to Beverly Jensen and the Johnson family.

His family had begged him not to come today, and up until an hour before, Luc had fully intended to skip this farce of an interview. He couldn’t stop them from running the footage and info they already had, but that didn’t mean he had to be a willing participant.

But his family hadn’t known the whole truth. Hadn’t known that it was Luc himself who had pushed her to this. Luc who’d insisted she follow her gut, tell the big stories, blow off the superficial BS and dig for truth.

She was dedicating her whole heart to her career, and really, was Luc any different?

Were any of the Morettis different? Cops got credited with being a lot more noble than reporters, but at the end of the day, they were both jobs. And more important, they could both be dreams.

Being a journalist was Ava’s dream, and he couldn’t bring himself to take that away from her.

Even if he destroyed his own dreams in the process.

And so he made two phone calls. One to Bev, the other to the Johnsons. He wanted their blessing before talking about their loss on national television, and he’d gotten it.

They’d all agreed that it was time—that some publicity would do more good than harm.

And so Luc had come to the studio. For Shayna. For Mike. For himself.

But mostly for Ava.

He’d done it for her, even though she’d betrayed him.

Luc refused to let himself acknowledge what that might mean, but some part of him already knew. Knew that his feelings for this woman went deeper than he’d realized.

Her questions continued, alternating between cheeky and somber.

Is it true what they say about cops and doughnuts?

How do you think 9/11 changed the perception of first responders, especially in New York?

Then she asked him one that caused him to stumble for the first time since he’d sat in the overstuffed chair.

All the ladies out there are wondering, so I have to ask…are you single?

Previously, Luc had been looking at Ava without really seeing her…not wanting to connect with her now that he knew what was coming.

But with that last question, his eyes zeroed in on hers, and she lifted an eyebrow. A challenge.

Challenge accepted, Sims.

“Yes, I’m definitely single,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

Ava was a professional, and the only sign that his response hit close to home was a slight, almost imperceptible, shifting in her chair.

“I’m sure the single women of New York will be glad to hear it,” she said with an easy smile, giving away nothing. “Are you looking to settle down someday?”

He knew that she was asking for the benefit of the viewers.

All day, she’d been asking questions that she already knew the answer to, and this one was no different.

Except it was different, somehow. They both knew it.

There was a too-long silence, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Haley woman exchange a puzzled glance with her assistant.

Then he cleared his throat. “You know, being married to a cop is hard. Really hard. I don’t want to put any woman through that.”

“What if she decided it was worth the risk?” Ava said. Her easy smile never wavered, but Luc found himself searching her face all the time.

Was this just another generic interview question?

Or something more?

Luc intentionally let a wide grin spread over his face. “Well then I guess I’d have to decide if she were worth the risk.”

There was a beat of silence. Everyone watching would assume his response was a guy response, just a twenty-something dude trying to maintain his bachelor status for as long as possible.

But the slight flinch in Ava’s features told him she heard it for what it was.

He was telling her that she was a risk.

One he wasn’t willing to take.

Ava recovered. “A dedicated bachelor then,” she said with an answering smile.

“I think so.” He fake-smiled right back and their gazes clashed for a second too long before she leaned forward to take a sip of water.

Her hand shook just the tiniest bit, and Luc instinctively tensed before forcing himself to relax his shoulders.

It was coming.

She sat back in her chair and Luc waited for her to triumphantly throw down her trump card.

But to his surprise, there was hesitation there.

No, more than hesitation. Agony.

She didn’t want to do this.