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times in her life that she now believed them. Women don’t try to carry all the groceries at once. Women don’t like to shoot guns. Women don’t enjoy Israeli Krav Maga fighting classes. Women don’t join the ATF and they certainly don’t become field agents.
    And of course the pièce de résistance— Why can’t you be more like your sister? She couldn’t be angry with her parents. Delaney knew they were only trying to protect her. It was bad enough having one daughter incapacitated. They didn’t need two.
    Jack waited for her to undo her seat belt, then he helped her out of the car. Delaney took a couple of deep breaths, smoothing her jeans to cover any trace of her ankle holster. She didn’t want to think about how close she’d come to shooting him.
    “I kind of like that you aren’t like most women. It makes you unique,” he said, allowing his gaze to rake her as she hit the button on her remote to set the car alarm. “Shall we?”
    Delaney nodded as he led her into the restaurant.
    “I hope you’re hungry.”
    “Why?” she asked, glancing at the huge array of items behind the glass counter as they entered the deli.
    Jack grinned. “You’ll see.”
    “That sounds ominous.”
    “It’s a warning,” he said with a wink.
    “Perhaps I should warn you first.”
    He tilted his head to peer at her. “About what?”
    “My appetite.” She smiled. “I’m a hearty eater. In my family, you had to clean your plate and I was known as the bottomless pit.”
    Jack laughed. “Sounds like the house I grew up in, but good luck doing that here.”
    A hostess seated them after a short five-minute wait. The waitress, a woman named Lisa, who had enough piercing to be classified as a lightning rod, took their order and set off for the kitchen. A minute later a busboy came buy and dropped a basket of bagel chips onto the table along with green tomatoes and pickles.
    Delaney picked up a cinnamon-raisin chip and started munching.
    “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jack teased. “You’re going to need all the room you can get.”
    “I’ll take my chances.”
    “When the food arrives, remember those famous last words.”
    Delaney’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as the waitress placed the pastrami sandwich in front of her. There must have been some mistake. She’d only ordered a sandwich, not a platter. How was she going to take a bite out of this thing? It was over four inches thick, not counting the bread.
    Jack watched her as he bit into his roast beef. “Doing all right there, tiger?”
    “I’m managing,” she said, devising a plan of attack.
    “The best approach is to dig in.”
    Delaney lifted half the sandwich and tried to take a bite. Her mouth wouldn’t open wide enough. Jack started to laugh.
    The sound washed over Delaney, easing the tension in her muscles, while drawing her near. “It’s not funny.”
    “Yes, it is,” he said, wiping the side of his mouth with his napkin.
    Delaney followed his movements, her gaze straying to his lips and dimpled cheeks. The man truly was GQ gorgeous. Would he kiss as good as he looked? Whoa! There would be no kissing on this assignment. It didn’t matter that the man’s mouth looked like it had been created for oral gratification. She tilted her head higher so that she was no longer staring at his sensual lips.
    His blue eyes twinkled as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. Delaney ignored him and concentrated on her food. She flipped off the top piece of bread and dug into her sandwich with her knife and fork. The pastrami practically melted in her mouth.
    “Mmm…this is great,” she said around bites.
    Jack nodded. “I know. I like to come to Jerry’s at least a couple of times a month. They have the best matzo ball soup you’ll ever taste.”
    “I’ll have to remember that for next time,” she said, sipping her Coke. The bubbles tickled her nose and she snuffled.
    “Are we going to do this again sometime?” His voice held