Which was wildly inconvenient.

How would it look if she took up with someone she'd been called to help? Jasmine had brushed it off, but it wasn't that simple. Even if the department brass didn't care, her brothers would have a field day. Jaz had said Cade was all over the fact she was even talking to Landon.

Add on the terrorism task force she'd been angling for, and now simply wasn't the time to think about a relationship.

Or even a summer flirtation.

No, it simply wasn't going to work right now, no matter how well the man could kiss. She had a job to do, and she was sick of the half-assed caseload she continued to get. If she wanted that to change, she needed her full focus on her job.

Taking the internal pep talk to heart, Daphne chugged down a few of the Advil she kept in her top drawer and refocused on her computer. Her partner was on a well-deserved vacation, his annual two weeks down the Jersey Shore, and while they were each responsible for the cases they were lead on, she'd promised to do a bit of follow-up for him on one of his identity-theft cases. She figured she could kill two birds if she shared her theories on Landon's case with someone in digital forensics.

Notepad in hand, she remembered her bottle of water at the last minute and grabbed that too before headed for the bowels of the building. With all the work that kept them busy, she figured their resident tech experts deserved a better environment, but when she walked into their domain a few minutes later, the frenzy of activity suggested no one minded.

Three different songs echoed out of the vast, cavernous room that housed her precinct's digital forensics lab. No one seemed to mind the odd mix of new age, classic rock, and sugary pop, so she mentally keyed into an old Eagles song and moved toward the center of the room. One of her friends from the academy sat in the vortex, her bobbed red hair covered by a pair of even redder Beats. The swing of her bob flowed in time to whatever came through the headphones, and she tapped away on her keyboard, appearing almost blissful in her task.

"Katie." Daphne added a light tap on the shoulder to the name, then jumped back when her friend whirled around in her chair.

"Daph!"

Katie leaped out of her chair and pulled Daphne close for a quick hug before dropping back into her seat. "Let me guess. I'm on Vic's to-do list."

"He just asked that I follow up to see if you had any updates on refining that phone video he wanted."

"Lucky for him I do. It wasn't easy. That was an old-gen phone, but I managed to clean it up. I already shot it his way this morning. He can open up that nice, pretty package when he gets back from Ocean City."

"That was easy."

"Nah, that's just how I make it look." Katie smiled at her own little joke before gesturing toward a small rolling file station that doubled as a seat. "What else is going on?"

"I caught a case and I'd love to run it by you."

"Shoot."

"You're a tech expert. What would you do with a server if you stole it?"

Katie looked thoughtful as she swigged down a few sips of Diet Coke. "Presumably I'd be expert enough to use what I stole. But it's sort of redundant."

"Why?"

"Was it only one server?"

Daphne glanced quickly at her notes. "Two. Individual units, but both roll up to the same network."

"Presumably the person who lost their equipment has backups."

"Yep. Backed up each hour to the cloud."

"And it's not government? Or retail of any sort, with PII? Personally identifiable information?"

"No." Daphne stilled. "But I should check that angle. See if he did any work for the government. I don't think his company handles any retail at all but will check that angle, too."

"It's a place to start, but probably won't pay dividends. For my money, sounds like someone wanted to screw with some equipment. A couple of servers are small potatoes."

"Is there any money in it?"

The subtle lift of Katie's shoulder suggested she wasn't that impressed. "Still less than ten grand, and that's for a pretty good one. Not chump change, but not exactly a get-rich-quick scheme. You could have someone just desperately hunting for some cash."

"But the rest of the computers were still on everyone's workstations."

Eyebrows lifting, Katie's interest ratcheted up. "Then it's not your standard smash-and-grab. Sounds more personal, as a matter of fact."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Why?"

"Some bad blood with the victim and his family." The oddest taste settled over Daphne's tongue at the idea of calling Landon a victim, but she held it back. She trusted Katie implicitly, but she didn't need to go spreading Landon's name around either. "I'm concerned it's all personal."

"Worth tugging that line, then. Especially if it's tickling somewhere in the back of your mind."

The idea did tickle, and that was what bothered her. She'd spent minimal time asking Landon about his mother, but she'd seen the no-trespassing signs as clearly as a sky filled with storm clouds. The topic was off-limits, which meant probing that wound likely wasn't going to get a ton of cooperation.

"You get any updates on the terrorism task force?" Katie interrupted her thoughts, and Daphne tucked away her questions for a later time. Regardless of how Landon McGee felt about it, she'd do what she needed to do-but she didn't want to jump to conclusions, either.

"I've gone through three interviews already. Last I heard they were postponing the decision by a few weeks to evaluate a few additional candidates."

The announcement that the selection committee was extending the date had come as a blow, especially since she'd started the process when there was still snow on the ground. Daphne had tried repeatedly to put it out of her mind, but the task force was a hot topic around the precinct, and ever since Gio had run his mouth that his little sister was applying for it, the well-meaning questions had flowed freely.

The recognition that terrorism was a reality for all major cities had pervaded the past decade of law enforcement. It had been one of the reasons she'd wanted to join the force after college, and it was a topic that made her feel as if she could truly make a difference. Of course she got that from the work she was assigned-even closing a case as simple as who stole a few servers had a satisfying edge-but being a part of a team that was responsible for keeping the country safe really had appeal. The world needed protecting, and she had a mind prepared to help out.

And if it helped get her out of the shadows of her brothers, then it was an even bigger win-win.

"A few more weeks?"

"Yep. A few more weeks of testing that trait I have so little of. Patience."

"The curse of the ambitious. My money's still on you."

"Thanks."

As she walked out of the geek pit, Daphne's stomach rumbled, and she realized she'd not only gotten rid of her headache, but she was actually hungry. The edge of Overlook Park was visible through the front door of the precinct, and she switched her path, opting for a few more minutes to collect her thoughts on a bench with a hot dog instead of heading straight to her desk.

Thick summer heat washed over her as she exited the building, the welcome shade of the park beckoning her forward. How was it almost the Fourth of July? She'd had her head down for the past two years, and it was funny to look up and realize time really was flying. Between studying for the detectives' exam, onboarding into her new role, and now going for the task force, time was slipping by.

And her personal life had seemingly followed suit.

When she and Mike first broke up she'd buried herself in work, happy for the place to focus. Yet somehow that focus had turned to a way of living that seemed to exclude everything else.

Was that why Landon McGee was so interesting? She hadn't had the hots-the good, steamy kind-for anyone since Mike, and it felt good to find a little bit of that again. To feel that giddy excitement that fired the blood.

And could anyone blame her? The man could kiss. For all his sweet, calm exterior, those still waters hid a streak of passion that was heady. Firm lips. Masterful-and she knew that was a ridiculously loaded word-tongue. And hands that knew how to roam without seeming too eager or lecherous.

Nope.

Landon McGee was something else, and she was dangerously close to having a crush. Even though her modest hangover and slate of work had kept her busy all morning, thoughts of that kiss had kept her steady company, stealing into her mind without warning.

She crossed toward the park, that kiss once again taking up premium real estate as she headed for her favorite hot dog stand.

"Hey Daph!" Another one of her friends from the academy shouted out a greeting, his hands full with what looked like two buckets of fried chicken.

"Lose a bet, Paul?"

"Three days ago and I'm still paying it off. My only hope is this round of payment shoots Kowicki's cholesterol up another ten points. That bastard is freakishly lucky."

Daphne remembered hearing about the bet-some twisted parlay that included three rounds of darts and a wager on the most recent Yankees-Mets subway series. Clearly Paul had underestimated Kowicki's weird-yet widely rumored-lucky streak. "Glad to know you're not a sore loser."

Paul only grinned at that and kept on, balancing the buckets in his hands.

Daphne continued into the park, her own impending date with cholesterol-laden goodness propelling her forward. Shade was in sight when something-the vaguest sense, really-had her turning her head.

And then, as if she'd conjured him out of thin air, she registered the sexy, low-throated greeting as she looked over to find Landon McGee headed straight for her.

When his morning proved solidly unproductive-and included a client call where he had to explain the reasons for a delayed project delivery that was entirely due to lack of feedback from said client-Landon figured his best bet for lunch was to just get the hell out of the office. There was a small sandwich shop he usually ran to for a quick bite, but something tugged him to go a bit farther.

He climbed the stairs from the subway ten minutes later to find himself at the entrance to Overlook Park, the crown jewel of Park Heights. He'd had some vague notion of heading into the precinct to talk to Daphne and invite her to that art show tomorrow night. He'd even rehearsed it in his head, attempting the correct mix of casual and sincere.

So it was a jolt to see her walking out of the precinct directly across the street and straight toward the park.

Summer sun wrapped around her like a halo and for a moment, he simply stood and stared. God, she was gorgeous. All feminine curves and long, lush hair, high cheekbones, and an angled chin that suggested just an extra touch of stubborn persistence.

She attracted and she intrigued him-which, he was fast coming to understand, was a crazy-powerful combination.

A shout to her left had her smiling and waving to a colleague in uniform and in that moment, her face lit up, Landon had some small inkling why he'd been so restless all morning.

And why that restlessness suddenly faded in the face of seeing her again.

He picked up the pace, crossing at the light, and intercepted her just before she reached a hot-dog vendor just inside the park entrance.

"Lunch of champions?"

She turned at his comment, confusion etching her face for the briefest moment before she turned the full force of that smile on him. He was grateful he already had his feet planted, or the force of that smile would have buckled his knees. And he quickly amended gorgeous to luminous in his mind.

"While I'd like to tell you a small, soggy hotdog is all the time I have, I have a secret to share." She leaned in close, hints of cherry blossoms floating from her hair. "I'm addicted to Tommy's hotdogs. They're the best in the borough."

Tommy smiled from the other side of his cart. "Daph's my best customer. Your usual?"

"Sure."

"And the usual is?" Landon asked.

"Hot dog, sauerkraut, and mustard."

Amused at her slight hesitation when she mentioned her toppings, Landon turned toward Tommy. "Add two more for me."

He added a few sodas to their order and then paid for their lunch.

"You don't have to buy my lunch."

"It's a hot dog."

"It's a da-" She broke off and turned toward a small napkin dispenser, busying herself with half-emptying it.

Something deeply satisfying settled in his chest at the idea she might consider this a date, and he nearly laughed out loud at himself. Was he really that hard up?

He'd been in a bit of a dry spell, especially after his last disastrous date with the far-too-eager and, sadly, unappealing Stephanie Sullivan the prior spring. On a very real level he knew he'd missed female company, but there was just something else about Daphne Rossi. Which took him right back to his impressions as he watched her walk into the park.

She was interesting. Fascinating. And he was eager to learn more.

Daphne pointed toward an empty bench. "It's hot today, but shouldn't be too bad in the shade."

A handful of pigeons scattered as they sat down. "I'm glad I found you."

Her carefree smile faded. "Did something else happen? Did you have another break-in?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. I headed this way because I wanted to talk to you."

"Did you think of anyone else I should look into?"

"Daphne. I'm here because I want to talk to you. You, Daphne, not cop Daphne."

"Oh."

The subtle implication that the only reason he'd have looked for her was because of his case tossed some cold water on his intentions, but he pushed on, figuring some element of luck was still on his side to have happened upon her. "I wanted to see if you're free tomorrow night."

"You're asking me out?"

"Sure." Casual, McGee. Keep it casual. "Someone at work has a showing at an art gallery tomorrow night and I want to show my support."

"And you're not bothered that I'm the cop on your case?"

"Am I a suspect?"

"No."

"Then it doesn't bother me."

"Okay. Well-" She hesitated before pushing a few wayward strands of hair out of her face. "It doesn't bother me either. But if I'm going to help you, I have to ask some questions that might make you uncomfortable."

The lingering confusion that had dogged him since she first brought up his past roared back with the force of a herd of out of control horses. "I'm not uncomfortable."