Page 21 of Win a Date with a Detective

The police.

As in, additional police.

Because apparently having my very own detective isn’t sufficient.

“But he’s right here,” I point out, gesturing toward Bronson.

“Ma’am—“

“He’s literally a detective.”

“Rachel,” Bronson says gently.

“What?”

“Let him do his job.”

I close my mouth.

For approximately three seconds.

“Can I ask a question?”

The security guard looks exhausted.

Bronson looks amused.

“Of course you can,” he says.

“Am I being detained?”

The security guard blinks.

Bronson presses his lips together.

Oh, he’s trying not to laugh.

I know that expression.

I’ve seen it approximately seventeen times tonight.

“Not by the police,” he tells me. “You’re being asked to remain here while we establish what happened.”

“So I could leave?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Interesting.”

“Rachel.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just establishing my constitutional rights.”

He shakes his head.

And despite the fact that I’m currently embroiled in a criminal investigation, I find myself smiling.

Because this man is ridiculously attractive when he’s trying to maintain his composure.