“So you were the Army brat. Or, rather, Navy brat.”

“In a manner of speaking—though my dad wasn’t moved around. He was stationed most of his career in Florida. He was killed in action, according to the official files, but it was an accident on base. Training accident. His CO really liked him and marked it KIA so his family could get better benefits. I was fifteen, my brother was sixteen.”

“Did either of you serve?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to, but my mom would have been crushed. She worried all the time about Dad, but knew he loved what he did. She was also wise—she knew I would be going into the military only as a tribute to my father, not because it was in my heart. She was a big believer of following dreams.”

“Is she around?”

“She died five years ago. Cancer. My brother is a big shot doctor with a gorgeous, smart wife, two kids, and another on the way. Still lives in Miami.”

“And you decided to become an FBI agent.”

“It was roundabout, but basically, I’d planned on being a cop. Ended up being recruited into the FBI out of college. No deep dark secrets.”

“We all have secrets, Matt,” she said.

He almost told her about Beth and what happened last summer. And worse, he could tell that she knew he had something he was holding back, as if she could read his mind. When he told her she had uncanny observation skills, he’d meant it—but it went way beyond that. Maybe that’s why she was so good as an undercover agent, why she had made detective at twenty-five, why she was on mandatory “vacation.”

“Maybe we do,” he said quietly. “Some things are harder to talk about than others.” Because he wanted to tell her about Beth, he deflected. “Why undercover work?”

She shrugged.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m good at it.”

“I’m a good scuba diver, but you don’t see me diving for treasure.”

“That sounds like fun, though.”

“You dive?” he asked, surprised.

“Never learned, but I’m a wicked swimmer. Always wanted to take a class, but I don’t really like rules.”

She’d totally changed the subject. Smoothly, expertly. But he wouldn’t let her. He really wanted to know what made her tick. “Hence, undercover work.”

She raised an eyebrow. When she did that, it was so damn sexy. Did she know? Did she know that she was exactly his type? Hell, he didn’t know he had a type, but if he had to pick a woman now, it would be Kara Quinn. It was the contradictions. Young, but not young. Petite, but strong. Sassy, but smart. But mostly, she was mysterious. The more he learned, the more he realized how much there was to learn.

“Maybe, in part. Maybe I just like being a different person.” Kara jerked her head toward the bartender who’d just finished closing down the bar. “They’re closing up. I’m going to call a taxi. One tequila too many.”