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everywhere you go?”
    “I don’t leave it out when I can help it. You have no idea how many hours I spent rebuilding that bloody thing.” He squinted a hateful eye at it.
    Libby grinned at him. “You’d be right at home in Boston.” She pictured the aggressive types who risked their necks on two wheels in the Financial District and across the river in Cambridge.
    He took a drink, then set the cup down with a sigh and stretched his neck from side to side. “So what’s the good word, Libby?”
    “I think the barista likes you.”
    Colin didn’t even bother glancing at the counter. “What’s not to like?” His arrogance was clearly a put-on. He picked up his cup and gazed over the rim with kind eyes. His irises were lit by the sun coming through the window, shining bright blue-green. He was every bit as handsome as his brother, but more dramatic—dark brows and eyelashes, and that scar. Libby had spotted others as well, hidden now by his cap, a couple of long, thin lines that interrupted the otherwise even shadow of his hair. He also had a tattoo Libby hadn’t noticed before, black writing across his neck, obscured by the collar of his hoodie.
    “So what are you up to this fine day?” he asked. “Keeping out of trouble?”
    “I was just on my way to type up some research at the university.”
    “What sort of research?”
    She waved a hand self-aggrandizingly. “Oh, all about the potential chemical applications of the bioluminescent properties of the arachnocampa .”
    “Glowworms?”
    She nodded. “You’d be amazed by the sorts of nonsense you can get grant money to come and study.”
    “Bugger me, I wouldn’t have pinned you for a scientist.”
    “I’m sure you’d pin me if you could,” Libby murmured.
    Colin smirked, not taken in. “You’re a cute one.” He leaned back in his chair with the air of cowboy poised to light a cigarette. He was the sort of handsome that hit women over the head like a mallet or a stiff drink, one of those men whose easy smile promised extremely enjoyable trouble. A man no father would approve of, especially not Libby’s.
    “Why glowworms?” he asked.
    She swirled her coffee in its cup. “Well, they’re pretty fascinating. My master’s is in biochemistry and it’d be a good start for a PhD… But to be honest, it meant I could wrangle a six-month semi-paid vacation in your gorgeous country.”
    He looked impressed. “As long as you’re doing it on your country’s dollar… Shouldn’t you be up in Otorohanga or someplace?”
    “I might get up there…but the folks at the Karori Sanctuary agreed to give me all the access and expertise I want. Plus I like it in Wellington. It reminds me of Boston, actually.”
    “Well, lucky Wellington—oh, shit.” Colin set his cup down and fished in a pocket, pulling out a buzzing pager and scanning its screen.
    “Duty calls?”
    “Sadly.” He replaced the device and drained his cup. “Did you see the forecast? There’s meant to be a whopping great storm coming in. I hope you’ve got someplace besides the marina to crash.”
    “I’ll figure something out.”
    “Well, you should come up to Kaiwharawhara some night, to the pub. Our family owns it. I’m working tonight actually, from six onward. I’ll slip you a free pint for the coffee, and we’ve got a roomy couch if you’re looking to dock on dry land. I’m sure Reece would love the surprise.” He pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card. He borrowed a pen from the counter, scribbling, and the barista pretended not to watch. Colin stood before Libby and held the card up, displaying the side with his handwriting.
    “That’s the pub.” He flipped it over to the printed side. “And that’s the courier dispatch, if you’re ever on Victoria Street and you need something.”
    Libby took it. “Thanks.”
    “I’ll see you around.” His warm grin gave him a dimple on one side.
    “You should be wearing a helmet,” she reminded him.
    “And you