“Her official workday begins at eight, but I think she often arrives by seven-thirty.”

“That will give me a chance to get a bagel at the coffee shop on the corner and deal with email.”

He appeared ready to move on to a new subject—but she wasn’t.

“Brent.” She waited until he looked at her. “I understand your concerns. But I don’t agree with your self-assessment. As for subjecting someone to the stresses your job entails—I could take the same position, given all that’s been happening in my life these past two weeks.”

“Your situation is temporary.” He swung onto the exit ramp that was empty in this prelude to rush hour.

“Given the strong emotions I sometimes stir up in my audience, it could happen again. If I followed your philosophy, I should write off romance too.”

He guided the car down the deserted streets, toward the parking garage at the station. “That’s different. You don’t carry a gun and deal with the dregs of society every day.”

“Not carrying a gun makes me more vulnerable—as Cate has reminded me ad nauseam. So I guess it wouldn’t be fair for me to put a guy through that kind of stress either.”

Brent pulled into the well-lit parking garage, giving her a clearer view of his face.

His brow was furrowed.

She locked her lips, letting him digest her comments.

Only after he swung into a vacant space and killed the engine did he give her his full attention, his demeanor somber.

“I get what you’re trying to do, Eve—and I appreciate it. What you say is logical, and if I hadn’t had such a bad experience with Karen, I might agree that my position is extreme. I might even buy your argument that with the right woman, I could dredge up the emotions I buried years ago and take a chance on love. But those are two big strikes to overcome.”

“I won’t dispute that. I’ll just remind you that the game’s not over until the third strike. So I choose to believe there’s hope for you. For us.”

Another car pulled into the garage, the headlights illuminating the interior of his car and putting them in a spotlight.

“We should go inside. Sitting around in parking garages isn’t the best idea under any circumstances—less so in yours. I’ll get your door.”

Eve started to protest, but he was already out of the car.

By the time she picked up her tote bag, stowed their empty travel mugs, and unlatched the door, he was there to pull it open.

“I think we should talk more about this.” She waited while he closed her door and set the locks.