Free Playing With You by Cheyenne McCray

rewarding.” He shook his head. “Finding that a missing person is dead or has been murdered is probably the worst.”
    “Oh.” Ricki frowned. “I didn’t think about that. Your job sounds similar to what mine was as a paralegal. You often see the worst of humanity.”
    “Yep.” He took another bite of éclair.
    “I imagine being a PI must be stressful,” she said.
    He swallowed his bite, then chased it down with coffee before answering her. “It’s a job and something I’ve been good at since I was a kid.”
    “Since you were a kid?” she repeated. “You started solving mysteries when you were young, like the Hardy Boys?”
    “Not exactly,” Garrett said with amusement. “Missing or stolen objects were my specialty.”
    His amusement shifted to anger that he made sure he didn’t show on his expression. Finding things was not the only thing he’d done. He’d also begun spying on Butch, his birth father. Garrett’s investigative skills had come in handy when the bastard had cheated on Garrett’s mother and on one of the many times Butch had beaten Garrett’s younger brother, Reese. All it took was a little spying and his father’s old camera.
    “There’s something else,” she said, her intuition surprising him.
    Rather than responding to her statement, Garrett gave a nod toward the glass cases filled with bakery items. “I’d say that your job is likely rewarding.”
    She smiled. He loved her smile—it made the world seem somehow brighter.
    “It is.” She took a packet of raw sugar from a container to the right, tore off an end and poured the contents into her cup before stirring it with the spoon. “As long as my baked goods are up to par, what I do makes people happy.”
    “Your baked goods are above par,” he said and meant it. “This éclair is damn—I’m sorry, darned good.”
    “Thank you.” Her cheeks turned a little pink at the compliment. “Lettie helps so much. She’s truly a find.”
    Garrett wiped his fingers on a napkin as he finished the éclair. “I forgot to get your number when we were out.” He’d been too intent on kissing her and had nearly lost his head. She told him what her number was and he gave a nod. “I’ll call you before Sunday.”
    Bells jangled at the door and both Ricki and Garrett glanced in that direction. Deena walked in. She looked at them both as they rose from their seats.
    “Hi, Deena,” Ricki said.
    “Good morning, Ms. Samson,” Garrett drawled.
    Deena’s smile looked forced. “Good morning.”
    Garrett looked at Ricki as he picked up the Styrofoam cup that still contained coffee. “Thanks for the éclair and the company.”
    Ricki had already picked up the used napkin along with her mug and the empty sugar packet. “See you later.”
    Garrett touched the brim of his hat and nodded to Ricki then Deena before heading out the front door.
    Smiling, he made his way to his truck and after unlocking it he climbed in. He was glad he’d ended up on autopilot and at the bakery and had gotten a chance to spend time with her.
    As he turned the key and started the big engine, he looked through the window at the odd woman and Ricki and his smile turned into a frown. He studied them for a moment. They were so different…Ricki with her soft curves and pleasing personality versus Deena who had nothing soft about her. Her personality seemed to be sharp and rigid, much like her looks.
    Everything about Deena Samson gnawed at him. His gut was telling him that something was off about the woman, and his gut instincts were almost always right. Maybe it just had something to do with their first meeting and the way she’d reacted to meeting Garrett. For all he knew, the woman could be a man hater.
    He backed the truck out and headed toward his office on Union Street. His thoughts seemed to zero in on Ricki and their conversation. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him that he couldn’t seem to keep himself away from her. It wasn’t hard to