Cavanaugh Reunion. Marie Ferrarella

a diner?”

      He had a feeling Andrew would have gotten a kick out of the question. “Very nearly. I’ve only been a couple of times,” he confessed. “But the man’s legend doesn’t do him justice.”

      “I’m sure,” she murmured. Ethan had the distinct feeling he was being brushed off. Her next words confirmed it. “But all I want to do right now is crawl into bed. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just take a rain check.”

      Where this tinge of disappointment had come from was a complete mystery to him. He was only trying to thank her for reuniting him with his phone, nothing more. Ethan chalked it up to having his morning shaken up. “If I tell him that, he’ll hold you to it. He’ll expect you to come for breakfast sometime soon,” Ethan added when she made no comment.

      Like she believed that.

      Kansas knew she should just let the matter drop, but it annoyed her that this walking stud of a detective thought she was naive enough to believe him. She deliberately pointed out the obvious.

      “Your uncle has no idea who I am.” And it was mutual, since she had no idea who this “Uncle Andrew” and his so-called legend were.

      “Uncle Andrew’s the former chief of police,” O’Brien informed her. “He makes a point of knowing who everyone is when it comes to the police and fire departments.”

      This was something she was going to look into, if for no other reason than to be prepared in case she ever bumped into Detective Stud again.

      “I consider myself duly warned,” she replied. “Now, unless you want me falling asleep on your doorstep, I’m going to have to go.”

      Maybe not the doorstep, Ethan thought, but he certainly wouldn’t mind finding her—awake or asleep—in his bed. He had a hunch, though, that she wouldn’t exactly appreciate him vocalizing that right now.