He drew a breath, then released it slowly. “What I’m about to say should be part of a longer conversation. There should be back and forth and discussion. There should be conversation and revelation. But we don’t have time for that. The Firehouse works on reservations, and if we miss ours, we don’t go tonight. So I’m just going to say this, and you think about it, and we’ll talk later, okay?”

Because he knew Tasha, he expected an argument. So he was pretty damn surprised when all she did was nod.

“I get that I make you nervous,” he said, “especially since we’re about to walk into a sex club. More than that, I know why. And it’s not because I want you—although you know damn well that I do. Hell, I remember the first time I saw you as a woman, and not just as Eddie’s daughter. And it wasn’t when you wore those short skirts or flirted with the other guys—and don’t think I didn’t know you were interested in me—it was when you had your guard down. When you’d come to the hospital after a mission to wait with us for news when someone had been hurt. Or when you’d bring bagels during an all-night briefing, then fall asleep in the reception area with an open paperback beside you because you wanted to see your dad one more time before he went into the field.”

He saw the tears well in her eyes, but he didn’t even pause.

“I asked you out the morning of that raid—and, yeah, I know you remember it. And we were both a wreck after your father died. You turned me down three days later. You came to my apartment, told me not to say a word, and then said that you didn’t think we should ever try to see each other. That it hurt too much.”

A tear snaked down her cheek. “Riley—”

“No.” The word was hard. A command. “Let me finish.”

“Do you know why I call you Tasha?” he asked, then continued before she could answer. “It’s not because he did. Or not exactly. It’s because you remind me of him. Loyal and strong and caring. It’s because I admire you, and I always have. I always will.” He drew in a breath. “But I also understand you, and I respect you. I’ve stayed away. I haven’t pushed—not too much, anyway. And when I ended up consulting for Lyle, I never breathed a word to him about our history.”

He exhaled, then dragged his fingers through his hair. “The point is that even though we’re going to a sex club, I know that whatever show we end up putting on isn’t real. I want you, Natasha, make no mistake. But I won’t ever push you. Do you understand?”