Brynne pretended to consider the question, though her lips quirked a little at the corners. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, then,” Eli said, after clearing his throat again, “I’m really sorry. That I treated you the way I did, I mean.”

Brynne studied him, gave a slight shake of her head. “Like I said, I’m over it. Have been for a very long time. But I still want to know—what brought all this on?”

Eli pushed away his plate. Hungry or not, he wasn’t going to get another bite of food past the cinch-like tightening in his throat.

When he spoke, he was surprised by his own words.

“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?”

What the hell? He was scheduled to work that night. And she would probably say she had a hot date. Thanks, but no thanks.

“I’ll be here at Bailey’s,” Brynne said, confused. “The party—” She blinked. “Eli Garrett, are you trying to ask me out?”

He hesitated, then decided he was in too deep to back out now. “Kind of,” he admitted.

“‘Kind of’?” Brynne repeated. “Are you or aren’t you asking me out, Eli?”

He sighed. Interlaced his fingers on the tabletop in front of him. “I am,” he said,

“Then the answer is no,” Brynne said, without rancor.

“No?” It was the reply he’d expected. So why did he feel as if he’d just been kicked in the stomach?

“Yes. I mean, no.” Brynne was smiling now, as though they’d just settled some existential dilemma.

Eli wished the earth would open right up and swallow him whole, but he had his pride, too. “Why not?”

“Why won’t I go out with you?”

He was exasperated now. “No,” he countered. “Why don’t you install a zip line and offer a discount for senior citizens? Of course why won’t you go out with me!”

“A zip line might not be a bad idea,” she said thoughtfully.

“Damn it, Brynne—”

“All right.” She met his gaze calmly, and her tone was matter-of-fact. “I don’t date cops,” she said.

He’d run into that policy before, throughout his career—women who were scared to fall for a man who might get shot in the course of a day’s work, women who disliked any kind of authority, women who only dated men with six-figure incomes. Even a few who had warrants out for their arrest.

“You don’t date cops,” he said, nonplussed.

“That’s what I said.”

“Why not?”

“I have my reasons,” Brynne responded, looking and sounding a little miffed now.

“Would you mind sharing them?”

“Yes, actually,” Brynne said, bristling by this point.

This was not going well.

Damn J.P. and Cord and their bright ideas.

“Fair enough,” Eli said, pushing back his chair. “Can I have the check, please?”

“No,” Brynne said. “This conversation isn’t over.”