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had never known another man whose internal thermostat was set so high. He was hot—in more ways than one—and I needed to be careful or I was going to have a bad burn.
     
    I decided that I wasn’t up for that direct a confrontation so I took a slow step backward.
     
    “Nine,” I said and moved to open my car door. I got in and started the engine, jumping in my seat as Donovan rapped on my window.
     
    “I’ll take you to dinner after,” he said quietly. “You’ve lost weight—you must eat, Pet.”
     
    I tilted my head in acceptance and drove off as soon as he’d stepped away from the vehicle. The last thing I needed was to run over Donovan’s foot.
     
    I was a little surprised that he’d noticed I’d lost weight. I’d been wearing sweaters to the office when I was doing paperwork, and the weight loss wasn’t always noticeable in leather, so I’d been sticking to that for distraction jobs. I guess I should have expected it. The man practically had x-ray vision.
     
    No one else had noticed. Not even my mother. The only thing Herself noticed was that I hadn’t asked for a second helping of mashed potatoes on Sunday. All it had taken to distract her, though, was reminding her that I’d been invited to Cousin Mary Katie’s wedding shower. Then she was off on her when-are-going-to-get-married-and-settle-down kick and I didn’t have to say anything more for the rest of the evening.
     
    I hadn’t been out on a date in a month. Had only been out once or twice total since the last time I’d been with Donovan. Just hadn’t seen the point.
     
    I parked my Mini in my standard space next to the back entry, thankful that at least it wasn’t raining. The weather had been nasty and damp for the past two days and after losing Donovan’s heat, I felt the cold all the way into my bones. Tonight was going to be even worse, and I was trying to think of some way of achieving full bimbo status without completely sacrificing comfort, when I finally made it up the stairs and to my apartment door.
     
    I’d taken the stairs out of habit. I made it a habit. It was a small change, but one that I was content with. I’d made several small changes lately. I ordered a treadmill off one of the home shopping channels and had it delivered. I found that I didn’t hate running nearly so much when I didn’t have an annoying brother dragging me out of bed to do it. It folded up and hid in the closet when I wasn’t using it, and I liked not being reminded of its presence all the time. I didn’t make it every day, but I ran probably three times a week. I kept my client info on my laptop and did most of my work out of my car. The office still had too many memories.
     
    Working as a Private Investigator has often put me in the path of some really unhappy people. Usually it just takes a quick tongue and quicker feet and I can avoid trouble. Domestic cases, though, were tricky. It doesn’t matter how quick your tongue is when a psycho blames you for his wife leaving him and taking the kids with her. I learned that the hard way, and I was still a mess. I guess I should have expected it, but it was the first time that I knew there was nothing I could’ve done to save myself.
     
    It was not a good thing.
     
    My life didn’t flash before my eyes. I almost wish it had. No… the only thing that I remember thinking was that I was alone. After it was over I thought about it more, and it wasn’t that I didn’t have people who cared about me—I did. I do. My brothers, my parents, Bridget and the guys at the office… they all care.
                                                                                                                                       
    What I didn’t have was someone who would truly understand why I did what I did and remember and hold that understanding in their heart even