"I'm good. These are great but their strength is matched only by how delicious they are."

"The house special."

"Oh?" Daphne couldn't resist a quick nod toward recent events. "I'd have thought the house special was now Unity beer."

Nick grinned at that, happiness and pride puffing out his chest. "I'll get right on that." He moved on down the bar, leaving her and Landon to their conversation.

"He's good at that."

"At what?" Landon took a sip of his fresh drink.

"Intruding and then walking away. Far better than my brother."

"You've got more than one. Can you be more specific?"

"At the moment I mean Cade. But they're all piss-poor at it." She tilted her head in the direction of her table. "Cade's been sitting over there, spying on us."

"I thought he was sitting with a beautiful woman, enjoying his evening."

"He's too dumb to recognize just how beautiful and perfect she is. But that's a conversation for another day." Daphne took a few more sips of her margarita before she recognized the last was actually a gulp. "And he's here spying on-"

She broke off as laser points of pain centered inside her forehead. The delicious margarita had turned on her in one swift gulp, and she wanted to bend over as the pain lit her up from the inside.

"What's wrong?"

"Brain freeze."

"You okay?"

"No!" She leaned forward and pressed her palm to her forehead, surprised when gentle fingers floated over her back in soft circles.

"Just let it pass. Nothing to do but wait it out."

"It hurts."

"Then you shouldn't have wolfed that margarita. Being pissed off at your brother has now backfired on you with shockingly swift cosmic justice."

"I'm not-" She reared up to argue before pressing her palm back to her forehead. "Oh damn, you're right."

"Come on. Nick keeps it like an icebox in here. Let's get you outside."

She had the vague sense of Landon waving someone off as he pulled her from her stool before gently maneuvering them through the bar. A wave of heat opened up to swallow her as he guided her out the door and into the evening air. Street lights were on and the evening had that pretty golden glow she loved about summer. The warmth enveloped her, but it was as Landon predicted. Time did its work.

The ice picks that jackhammered her forehead faded. In the place of such overwhelming focus, she keyed back in to the large hand that stayed on her back and the gentle fingers that gripped her shoulder as he led her to a bench.

"You okay?"

"I think so." She rubbed her forehead once more, relieved when the pain vanished in full, as if it had never been. They were so close their heads practically touched as she turned toward him. "And you're right on with the cosmic justice."

Humor threaded through his voice. "Karma's a bitch." As if he realized he still had his hands on her, he pulled back. "And I'm not gonna lie. It's a relief to be out from underneath your brother's attention. The man has the good old-fashioned touch-my-sister-and-die stare down pat."

"My brothers are a pain in the ass. Cade happens to be playing the starring role today."

Landon settled himself next to her, his gaze steady even with the slight addition of distance. "Don't get me wrong, I can handle the stare. But I'm a smart guy. I calculate the angles all day long. That's the lingering curse of being the skinniest kid on the playground."

There wasn't anything scrawny about him now. In fact, the warm press of a solid male body next to her suggested Landon McGee had done his level best to make up for lost time.

"I'm sure you can handle yourself just fine."

"I like to think so." That mental image of Stephanie Sullivan gossiping over size thirteen shoes rose up, but before it could spoil the moment, Landon shifted, that hard physique pressed more firmly against her. "But I'm still not sure I want to wave a red flag in front of your brother when all I want to do is this."

The minimal space between them vanished as his hands returned to her shoulders and he pulled her close for a kiss. Something hot whispered over her skin, sizzling and smoking in the warm summer air as he shifted to bring their bodies more fully aligned.

The guy had moves, she'd give him that. And there was nothing awkward or unpracticed about the firm press of lips against hers, or the way his fingers danced over her skin. The light blouse she'd changed into for the evening provided little barrier and she felt the edge of his finger snake beneath the rim of silky material at her shoulder.

The touch-something so simple and so soft-was shockingly powerful.

She'd missed this. The give and take, growing from gentle to urgent in the space of a heartbeat. The incendiary heat, filling her body as the fire of attraction followed a steady line of fuel. And the need. Oh, that glorious, sensual drumbeat of need that flowed beneath her skin, directing everything toward him.

His fingers remained firmly in the zone of propriety, but she sensed a restlessness there against the skin of her shoulder and the press of her back. His desire was clear.

He wanted her too.

And in a rush, her thoughts from earlier came back to life. The hormone stew. She'd sensed it that morning, and now-here-she had tangible proof.

She was attracted to the man. Worse, she wanted to see where this might go. As someone who'd actively shunned anything that smacked of interest-on the rare occasions she'd been lucky to feel a spark of anything-for the past two years, she now had karma to once again thank for her current situation.

She'd allowed her fear and her anger and her sadness to win, and now the other side of her-the side that wanted carefree happiness and joyful madness-was determined to have its say.

His lips pressed against hers once more, before he broke the connection. That shuttered gaze had opened a bit, and she saw an attraction that matched her own.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Do you really want to know?"

A wry smile lit his lips, oddly endearing in the moment. "Do I?"

"Thanksgiving dinner."

Four.

Thanksgiving dinner?

He had no idea what she'd meant, but the thought had kept him steady company as he escorted Daphne back inside the bar and over to her friend. Cade had disappeared at that point-a fact Landon had been silently grateful for-and his introduction to Jasmine Shane had proven as awkward as he felt.

She'd been lovely. He'd been a fumbling ass.

His damn brains were still so scrambled by the kiss-or kisses-that he'd been lucky to manage a coherent hello and handshake before he'd taken off.

Damn, but the woman got to him.

He'd spent the entire day attempting to ignore the lingering memories of the attractive detective, and then she'd shown up and planted herself on the empty barstool beside him, like a gift. Instead of his having to come up with some dumbass reason to call her up and ask her out, she'd appeared. Like Venus on her clamshell, only twice as hot.

So here he sat, sprawled on the large leather couch in Nick's office, brooding over what to do next.

A brood that came to a swift, untimely end as he heard a hushed giggle layered over the heavy swing of the office door as it hit the wall.

"Don't you have a home?" Nick asked, his voice heavy with the notes of interrupted foreplay.

"Nick!" Emma said before she slipped from his arms. "Hi, Landon."

"I can get out of here. Leave you two alone."

"No. Stay." She pointed toward the door and mimed closing it to Nick.

Landon almost laughed at his brother's sigh before barely holding back one of his own. There was no way he was getting out of this with any privacy intact. "No, really. I can leave."

"You heard the man, Emma. He's got to go."

Emma only rolled her eyes and took the seat next to Landon, sinking down into the couch they'd dubbed "the Monster." "Time to spill the details."

"There are no details."

"Then you mean I wouldn't see a kiss for the ages if I went over there and rewound tonight's security footage?"

Landon ignored the direction of her finger point-straight at the set of small screens attached to the security cameras Nick stationed around the inside and outside of the bar. He didn't need to look because he'd installed the damned cameras himself, in an attempt to help his brother become a modern fucking businessman.

"You want to spend your time that way, be my guest."

Emma saw the block for what it was and seemed to shift tactics. "Who is she?"

"Someone I met."

"His detective." Nick added.

"Detective for what?" Nick's less-than-subtle addition to the conversation worked to his advantage as his brother's fiancee turned instantly contrite and conciliatory. "Is this about the break-in you had? Has she found anything?"

"No, and she probably won't."

"Why not?"

"This is New York. I think the police are more worried about catching those doing real damage than someone who popped loose a few servers. And they should be."

"But why would someone do that?" Emma pressed on. "Or target you?"

"I have no idea." In the rare moments when his thoughts hadn't been full of Daphne Rossi, or focused on answering the questions of his staff and suitemates, he'd tried to figure out who'd have wanted to attack his stuff.

"Maybe it's your zombie program. For reasons that defy explanation, people remain obsessed with zombies as entertainment. Maybe someone wants to bring your idea to market first."

Although he hadn't considered the zombie angle, Emma's suggestion hit him square in the gut. He'd put in nearly a solid year on the game, working on it in his spare time and refining it to the point of obsession. It was the embodiment of his work to date, the game sophisticated and fun.

Was that why he'd been targeted?

"Maybe. I'll add it to the consideration list."

Emma might have a point, but as the raw panic faded, he couldn't quite see his way to that either. While his business was built on intellectual property and first mover advantage, no one would get very far attempting to put his ideas out on the market. He had enough code, enough backups, and now a police report that would easily prove his ownership of the idea.

So who had reason to target him?

Daphne tugged the biological-mother line pretty quickly. Was it worth considering?

At minimum, he could do a bit of digging on his own and see what he could find. Although he wasn't a hacker by trade, he knew his way around databases if necessary. Fortunately, that likely wouldn't be necessary, seeing how Google and Facebook usually gave him all he needed.

"So tell me about Daphne." Emma's attention returned with all the subtlety of a homing device.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Are you going to ask her out?"

Landon shot Nick a glance for help, but his brother only grinned at him from his perch on the edge of his desk. "You're on your own, man."

"I might."

He'd already been thinking down that avenue anyway. One of his freelancers had an exhibit opening Friday night, and he'd already said he'd stop by. It would be a nice, casual way to see her again.

"You might?" Emma narrowed her eyes. "I say you're a fool if you don't call the woman before you go to bed tonight."

Since he knew she was right, Landon took the opportunity to exit stage left. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he jumped off the couch and headed for the door. "I'll let you two get back to things."

"Finally," Nick muttered.

"Later." Landon waited until Emma's head was turned before shooting his brother a favorite finger gesture.

A deep, dark chuckle was all that followed him out the door.

Daphne rubbed at her temple, the dull ache her penance for the second margarita she'd allowed Jasmine to talk her into. Which was the horrible lie she'd continued to tell herself so she wouldn't think about the fact that she'd ordered the second margarita in a vain attempt to cool down.

Even now, she could still feel the heated brand of Landon's lips and the gentle way the tips of his fingers floated over the top of her shoulder.

Damn, but the man could kiss.