“Why would she jump to that conclusion?”

“She saw us together at the hotel, I told her we ran into each other because of our jobs, you’re with the DEA—and Eve’s analytical skills are formidable.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for future reference. Go ahead and take the call while I pour your coffee.”

She put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Eve. I—”

“Thank heaven you answered! I’ve been worried sick! The station’s buzzing about the Ivy Hill drug bust, and after finding you and your DEA buddy together at the hotel, I had a feeling you were in the middle of it. I tried to get the scoop from my inside source, but Brent’s tied up with a homicide and unavailable. Are you involved?”

“I was—past tense. My undercover gigs are officially over. In fact, I’ve earned myself a few days off.” Zeke handed her a mug, and she mouthed a thank-you.

Instead of moving away, however, he moved in. Close enough to let his lips graze her temple and send her pulse into overdrive.

“Why? You never take days off. Did you get hurt again?”

She tuned in to Eve’s question. “No. I’m fine.” Better than fine.

“You want me to come over? I could swing by Nathaniel Reid Bakery and get us two of those fabulous breakfast sandwiches—and maybe an almond croissant to split.”

“That’s, uh, tempting.” She cleared her throat and resisted the urge to fan herself as Zeke invaded her personal space in the most delicious way. “But can I have a raincheck?”

“Why? You never keep much food at your place under normal circumstances, and you haven’t lived there for a month. Your cupboard has to be bare.”

“Not quite.”

“How is that possible?”

“Um . . .” Hard as she tried to fabricate a story, her mind wasn’t cooperating, thanks to the trail of fire Zeke’s mouth was branding across her forehead.

“Wait.” Another pause, and Cate could almost hear the gears grinding in Eve’s brain. “Is Zeke there?”

Cate glanced at him. “Uh—”

He leaned closer and spoke into the phone. “Yes, he is.”

A chuckle came over the line. “In that case, I’m happy to issue a raincheck. But you should call Grace. She—” The ding-dong of the doorbell echoed through the apartment. “Uh-oh. Too late. I was going to warn you she’s been texting me like crazy since I told her about the Ivy Hill bust. She’s in town for a meeting, and I bet she decided to swing by and see if you happened to be home.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Cate started toward the door, leaving Zeke to follow close on her heels.

“You want my advice? Let Zeke answer the door. She’ll disappear faster than she does whenever I mention working on a DIY project.”

“I’ll consider that.”

“Call me with details soon. On the case too.”