It Had to Be You by Jill Shalvis

was for pussies”—not to mention that it left him dealing with the “media shitstorm” on his own. His mom, reminding him that sometimes things happened for a reason. His dad, telling him to work through it and stay strong. Last was Jack’s message, suggesting that Luke not read the news or turn on the TV.
    So of course Luke went straight to the browser app on his phone and brought up the news. Yep, the media storm was still raging, with people blaming the DA and the entire SFPD.
    And Luke, of course.
    That was okay. Luke blamed Luke too.
    He was starving. He slid off the bed and staggered up the creaky stairs and into the kitchen. He could drive into town, but he’d have to get dressed, and plus, he had no idea where he’d left his keys. He rarely did. Without turning on the light, he pulled open the refrigerator door.
    He had no idea what he was expecting. He hadn’t yet stocked any food. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Hadn’t thought of anything other than getting away to hear himself think.
    Or better yet, not think.
    But there was bottled water, milk, eggs, cheese, luncheon meats, apples, oranges, and—hitting the jackpot—beer. A plate on the middle shelf had a colorful note stuck right on the top of it, from Ali.
    He’d nearly forgotten about her.
    Curious, he pulled out the plate. An omelet. He’d have preferred pie, but this looked good.
    Hell, who was he kidding? Anything he didn’t have to cook would have looked good to him. He nuked the plate, and then wolfed down the omelet where he stood. He was moving to the sink when he heard a whisper of a sound.
    Footsteps.
    Luke reached for his gun before remembering he was unarmed and in his boxers. Christ, he needed more sleep.
    “Hands where I can see them, dick breath,” a female said, and then the overhead light was slapped on.
    Turning slowly, Luke came face to face with Ali standing in the kitchen entryway with an umbrella in one hand—aimed in his direction like a sword—and the other hand still on the light switch.
    Clearly, she’d been in bed sleeping. Her hair was wild, like an explosion in a mattress factory. Her eyes were huge in her pale face. She wore a thin, white wife-beater tank top and sweatpants that were so big they were slipping off.
    She lowered the umbrella and hitched up the sweats. “I thought we had an intruder.”
    “We do,” he said. “ You. ” To distract himself from the fact that she was very braless, he eyed her stance. She wasn’t new at protecting herself. “Dick breath?”
    “Sorry, I was trying to sound tough.” She shoved a hand through that crazy hair, looking a little bit wild and a lot off her game, and yet, he thought, there she stood ready to defend his house.
    The first person on his side in a good long time.
    Firmly ignoring the odd feeling in his gut, he shook his head. “Bad idea, coming up on a pissed-off, hungry, exhausted cop like that.”
    “I didn’t know it was you,” she said. “And you’re not a cop right now. You’re on leave.”
    He could have told her he was always a cop. “What if I’d shot you?”
    “Would have ruined my whole day,” she said in a tone that told him her day had been shitty. Then her gaze ran over him, and he knew the exact second she registered that all he wore was boxers because her breath caught audibly.
    She was aware of him as a man. Ted might have dented her heart but he hadn’t broken it.
    “Is that a gun in your shorts,” she asked softly. “Or are you just happy to see me?”

Chapter 5
     
    A li worked at not swallowing her tongue, as Luke—after a speculative, edgy look—turned and vanished down the hall without responding to her question.
    Good Lord, the man wore nothing but boxers like no one else. She’d known he was good looking, but she hadn’t known he had acres of hard sinew that bunched and flexed with his every move.
    And she had no idea what she’d been doing baiting him like that. She certainly hadn’t expected to feel