Page 18 of Bear and Order

"Barely," he says, and the word leaves his mouth before he can stop it. His jaw stiffens slightly, as though he hadn't intended to say it aloud.

I grin. "There he is."

His eyes narrow. "Who?"

"The person hiding underneath all the professionalism."

"I am professional."

"You look professional," I agree. "There's a difference."

His lips twitches again. Victory — a small one, but it still counts. Then an idea forms, quick and certain, and I pull away from the counter before I can talk myself out of it.

"No," Brock says.

"I haven't said anything." I mutter.

"You have that look."

"What look?"

"The one that means you're about to become difficult."

I point at him. "That's profiling."

"It's experience." He folds his arms. "Whatever you're thinking, the answer is no."

"I'm joining you today."

"No."

"I wasn't asking." I reply swiftly.

"You were."

I glare at him and he stares right back. Unfortunately, he's very good at it. "I'm the victim here," I say.

"That's not how investigations work."

"It should be." I lean forward. "You need me out there with you right now,"

His eyebrows rise — that reaction alone is worth the argument. "Need you?"

"Nobody knows this bakery better than I do," I press. "Whoever is doing this knows my business. I'll notice things you won't." That gets his attention; I can see it immediately. The investigator in him is listening now, not the inspector. Different animal entirely.

Brock exhales slowly. "I'll regret this."

"Definitely," I agree.

His eyes close briefly. "Fine."

That was easier than expected, and apparently my surprise is obvious.

"Don't look so shocked," he mutters.

"I was prepared to argue longer."

"I'm aware."