No need to rush. You have my address?

No.

It appeared on her screen.

Got it. See you soon.

As she tucked the phone into her pocket and pulled a plate from the cabinet, her spirits took an upswing. She had a possible lead on the two cases that troubled her, she’d have surveillance cameras in place in a handful of days, and she was about to see Nate.

Mondays didn’t end much better than this.

She was here.

As his doorbell rang, Nate set the last of his supplies in the bedroom that was prepped and ready for painting—a chore he’d tackle as soon as Grace left.

Wiping his palms on his jeans, he strode down the hall toward the front door and pulled it open.

Grace gave his holey, paint-splattered jeans and threadbare T-shirt a once-over. “I can see you’re deep in rehab mode. You sure you don’t mind an impromptu visitor?”

“Depends on the visitor.”

“I come bearing gifts.” She lifted a foil-covered plate.

“If it’s food, you’re in.” He grinned and pulled the door wide.

She eased past, her hair brushing his chin and leaving a sweet, spicy scent swirling around him that was far tastier than whatever treat she had on that covered plate.

To buy himself a moment to corral his unruly hormones, he fiddled with the lock on the door before turning to her.

The delay didn’t help.

With the reddish strands in her hair glinting in a shaft of light from the dipping sun, a soft knit shirt molding her curves, and legs that went on forever below her shorts, he’d need an hour—and a cold shower—to tamp down his libido.

“Where would you like this?” She lifted the plate again.

Focus, Cox.

“Um . . . in the kitchen?”

“Seems sensible. Can you point the way?”

“I’ll show you. Follow me.”

She fell in behind him as he led her toward the back of the house and flipped on the light.

Her jaw dropped as she scanned the seventies-style kitchen he hadn’t yet touched, but she quickly snapped it shut and rearranged her features to mask her shock.

He hiked up one side of his mouth. “Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I had the exact same reaction the day I toured the house. It’s like the kitchen got stuck in a time warp. Get a load of the avocado stovetop and dishwasher.” He waved a hand toward the obnoxious duo. “Like I told you, the place needs major work. Whipping it into shape is a long-term project.”

“It, uh, does have potential, though.”

Her attempt to be polite only upped her cuteness factor.

Reining in his amusement, he tried for an earnest but clueless demeanor. “Do you think appliances in one of the primary colors would brighten up the room?”

Her eyes rounded, but again, she made a valiant effort to recover. “I agree the room could, uh, benefit from a few touches of color other than avocado, but why not add a bay window or put in a skylight? It’s hard to beat natural light as a design element.”