Page 3 of Win a Date with a Detective

“He’d never get away with it. I know too much about forensic evidence.”

She laughs.

I take another sip of champagne and glance toward the stage.

Then I see him.

Detective Bronson.

And holy mother of unsolved mysteries. His photograph doesn’t do him justice.

He’s standing beside another bachelor, listening to something the man is saying. He’s wearing a dark suit that fits his broad shoulders like it was tailored specifically to make women forget how to form complete sentences.

His dark hair is neatly styled, and his expression is almost painfully serious.

Until the other man says something that makes him laugh.

Oh. That’s nice. It’s really nice.

His entire face changes when he smiles.

“Found him,” Lenora says.

“Found who?”

“The detective you’ve been staring at for the past thirty seconds.”

“I was conducting surveillance.”

“Obviously.”

“I’m assessing whether he’s worth bidding on.”

“And?”

I watch him reach up to adjust his tie. My heart flutters.

“I’m going to need a larger budget.”

By the time the auction begins, I’ve made two important discoveries.

First, the champagne here is excellent.

Second, I am apparently willing to spend a rather unreasonable amount of money for the opportunity to ask an attractive detective about his most interesting cases.

I’m choosing not to examine what that says about me.

The auctioneer takes the stage, welcomes everyone, and launches into an enthusiastic explanation of the evening’s charitable mission.

I applaud appropriately.

Then the bachelors start appearing.

Some are charming. Some are handsome. Some are clearly enjoying the attention considerably more than others.

And then there’s Tyler.

My poor brother walks onto the stage looking like a man approaching his own execution.