Okay, so what if everyone in town hated me? That just meant I was doing my job well. No one loves a good reporter. And I was a good reporter, despite what Felix thought. So maybe I wasn’t 100 percent sure of this creep’s identity, but in the past week I’d single-handedly gotten the goods on Katie Brigg’s secret online dating life, Blain Hall’s real addition, blackmail on the set of Pines’s last film, and kickass quotes from both Pines and Jennifer Wood. All things considered, I rocked. I was a superstar gossip columnist.

With that cheery thought, I dug into my enchiladas with relish, not even caring the slightest that they were just one jalapeno shy of being toxic.

Three margaritas later, I staggered into the living room to find Cal hovering over a stack of papers in a yellow manila folder.

“What’s that?” I asked, plopping myself down on the sofa next to him.

“A new client. Wants me to watch his wife while he’s out of town.”

I looked down at the folder. A picture of a tall, stacked blonde stared back at me. I hated tall, stacked blondes.

“She looks high maintenance,” I pointed out.

He shot me a look, the corner of his mouth tilting upward in a grin.

“Well, luckily, I don’t have to date her. I just have to watch her.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Right.”

“Anyway, I won’t take it until I’m sure you’re out of danger.”

Something about the protective tone in his voice made my insides warm. Yeah, I know he was being paid to be protective, but that didn’t make it any less comforting.

“Thanks,” I said.

He turned to me. “For what?”

“For taking care of me. Nobody takes care of me.”

His eyes softened. “You’re slurring your words a little there, kid.”

I nodded. “It’s ’cause I’m drunk.” I lifted my empty margarita glass as proof.

He grinned. “Yes, you are.”

“It’s okay,” I told him. “I like being drunk. It means I don’t have to think about anything.”

“Such as?”

“Suspects, murders, Pines, the paper, Felix, you.”

“Me?”

Shit. Had I said that out loud?

“I mean, the way you follow me around.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Does it bother you that much?”

“No. I mean, yes, at first. But, no, that’s not what I meant when I said you and you following me around. I meant, well, I guess what I really meant was…I mean, it’s complicated, I mean…” Truth was, I had no idea what I meant.

Cal looked at me, concern lacing his eyes. Dark brown eyes. I’d never noticed before, but they were fringed in the longest lashes I’d ever seen on a man. I sighed. “You have nice eyes.”

The corners of his lips tilted upward. “Thanks.”

“And nice lips. They look like soft lips.”