Page 30 of Win a Date with a Detective

“Oh, Detective. Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

I shake my head.

Then head toward the vending machines.

Five minutes later, I’m standing in front of Rachel with what might be the least impressive romantic dinner in the history of mankind.

A bag of pretzels. Two packets of peanut butter crackers. A chocolate bar.

And two bottles of water. Sparkling, because it is a date.

Rachel stares at the assortment.

Then looks up at me. “Bronson.”

“Yes?”

“Are you proposing?”

I laugh. “Not yet.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. Apparently, my brain has officially stopped functioning.

Rachel, however, looks delighted. “Well, in that case, I accept.”

She grabs the chocolate bar.

I gesture toward a small table near the vending machines. “Your table awaits, madam.”

“So,” Rachel says around a mouthful of chocolate. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

I consider the question.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether you’re planning to steal anything else tonight.”

She gasps. “I DIDN’T STEAL ANYTHING!”

I laugh.

“Just checking.”

She throws a pretzel at me. I lean to catch it in my mouth.

She stares. “Whoa. That was hot.”

“Good.” I grin. “I’m on a new case.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m investigating exactly what turns you on.”

Her cheeks turn pink. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I lean forward. “Very much.”