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forming between dark brows. “Whereabouts?” His curious gaze flitted down her misshapen, bulky cardigan in apparent sympathy, as if he knew it were a faded hand-me-down from her mother.
    Heat burnished her cheeks. “Louisburg Square.”
    Steven whistled while he studied her with a half smile. “A little rich girl, huh?”
    “Not me, my aunt,” she said with a bite in her tone.
    “You don’t like her?” He eyed her with a squint.
    She huffed out a weary sigh, guilt creeping in over the strained relationship with her mother’s sister. “Not really, but we just moved in three months ago, so maybe it’ll change.” She pulled on the sleeves of her sweater to tuck her fingers inside, wishing she’d worn her coat and gloves as Aunt Eleanor always nagged her to do. “Although I have my doubts.”
    “Why?” He clasped her arm to help her across the dark beach.
    Pulse racing, she forced herself to concentrate. His firm hold made her forget all about the cold, and she stumbled overa lump in the sand, causing his grip to tighten. “Well, Aunt Eleanor never married, you see, so she knows nothing about being a parent or a guardian. Despite the fact I’ll be eighteen in two months and I took care of Daddy and my little sister after Mama died, she treats me like a child.” They reached the boulevard, and he looked both ways, carefully steering her across. On the other side, he released her arm, and immediately the fog cleared from her mind, allowing her to focus on her aunt. “When it comes to my life, she’s as rigid as the wood in this boardwalk. Things like ridiculous curfews, forcing me to go to catechism class, and refusing to let me bob my hair.”
    He shot her a sideways grin. “Sounds like a smart woman to me.”
    She peered up, head cocked. “Spoken like a true tight-lipped arm of the law, Agent O’Connor, nose to the grindstone as Joe so aptly pointed out.”
    A boisterous group of men and women spilled out of a noisy dance hall, and Annie’s heart swooped when Steven shored up the small of her back, guiding her past. He glanced over, his angled smile matching hers. “A tight-lipped arm of the law with his nose to the grindstone who saved your pretty hide tonight, I might add— twice .”
    She exhaled wispy air. “So you keep reminding me.” She peered up, eyes in a squint. “How old are you anyway?”
    He grinned. “Old enough to agree with your aunt. Twenty-five tomorrow, as a matter of fact.”
    She beamed. “Well, happy birthday,” she said with a bright smile that quickly sloped off-center. “But that’s hardly old.”
    “Yeah?” He crooked a brow. “Old enough to keep you out of trouble, kiddo.”
    They turned at the corner, leaving the bright lights of the boardwalk for the shadowed lamplight of Revere Street, and suddenly the memory of Harv and Grove made her shiver.
    “Cold?” He immediately took off his coat again and draped it over her shoulders, buffing her arm with his palm as they walked, producing a shiver of another kind.
    “A little,” she whispered, suppressing a gulp as she wrapped his coat tight, the scent of Bay Rum taking her captive. “So . . . I suppose Erica’s none too pleased I stole you away?”
    He chuckled. “Nope, but she’ll be there when I get back.”
    Annie frowned. “Is she . . . your girlfriend?”
    His laugh had a definite edge. “Nope. Don’t have one.”
    “Why?” she asked, shock halting her in her steps.
    He assessed her out of the corner of his eye with a ghost of a smile, prodding her along with a hand to her back. “Because women are nothing but trouble. You should be proof of that.”
    “But you kissed her!” she blurted, the words warming her cheeks as her heels ground in.
    He faced her, hands latched to her shoulders like a big brother. “That’s right, because news flash, kiddo, most men like to kiss women. It feels good and a lot of guys will say or do anything to get as much as they can, which  . . . ,” he said with