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definitely be love. “I screwed up. Shouldn’t have assumed. And you know what else?”
    A noise from the café drew her attention for a second and her ponytail flew over her shoulder when she came back to him. “What?”
    Gently, he swept the blond strands over her shoulder, let the backs of his fingers linger a second. Maybe two.
    She shifted and he smiled at the punch of physical attraction. Or maybe he needed sex. Hot, sweaty, knock-him-sideways sex that he hadn’t had in way too long. Getting busy with a woman had never been a problem. Getting busy with the right woman proved to be a challenge.
    Penny Hennings—defense lawyer or not—might be the right woman.
    She shifted again, made snoring noises, and he ducked his head closer. Slowly, she lifted her chin, and if he pushed it, if he nudged a little farther, he’d be close enough to kiss her. “Yeah, you might be the right one.”
    Drifting closer, she blinked up at him, those big blue eyes questioning. “I’m sorry?”
    A shrill beeping filled the hallway. Phone. The boss returning his SOS call. He shook his head and let the annoying beep get him back in line before he did something beyond stupid.
    Sex with Penny Hennings. He’d never survive.

Chapter Four
    Once in the unmarked car driven by Brent Thompson, her newly assigned U.S. marshal, Penny and Russ were driven to an FBI safe house near New Buffalo, Michigan, for crying out loud. Hey, boys, I have nothing whatsoever going on today—let’s drive to Michigan. Anything happening at her office would have to wait. It wouldn’t make her clients happy, but her choices were limited.
    They’d spent over an hour looping around the lake, and now, as they drove along this quiet road, miles and miles of sparkling Lake Michigan water laid a perfect path against a bright blue sky. It seemed all that water led straight to Heaven. She didn’t visit the beach often, but driving along this road, watching sunbathers and toddlers playing in the sand, the sunlight shimmering off the lake, all of it gave her a sense of calm she didn’t often feel. Maybe she should make more of an attempt to spend time at her parents’ lake house in Wisconsin.
    “You’re too quiet back there,” Russ said from the front passenger seat. “That scares me.”
    “Poor baby. Relax, Russell. I was thinking about going to the beach.”
    “I didn’t peg you as a beach person.”
    “I’m not. Might be time for that to change. Are we almost there?”
    According to Russ, Elizabeth Brooks and her son would be meeting them at the safe house, where they’d stay under guard of the U.S. Marshals. At least she’d be safe while Penny tried to figure a way out of this mess.
    She reached into her bag for her phone, then remembered Russ had taken it from her. Maddening, this man. He didn’t trust her to not make calls and literally confiscated the phone. Then he promptly removed the battery to ensure the phone couldn’t be tracked. Colin Heath had gone to great lengths to get her attention. After the brazen shooting on the courthouse steps, his being able to bribe someone at the phone company for her location didn’t seem like a stretch.
    Penny sighed and Russ spun to her. “Problem?”
    “I stink at being idle. All this doing nothing makes me twitchy.”
    “We’re almost there. You need to call someone? You can use my phone.”
    She’d already checked in with her dad before they left the city. Last he’d seen her, she’d walked across the street for a latte, one she never did get and still desperately needed. Her dad had promised to either move or cover her client meetings for the day, but still, she felt like a slacker.
    “No. Thank you. You have people watching my family, right?”
    He nodded. “I’m on it. Trust me on this, okay? You all have protection. If we find your family needs to be in a safe house, we’ll deal with it.”
    Penny swung her gaze to the back of Marshal Thompson’s—Brent’s—head. Smart man that he was,