Believing Again by Peggy Bird

not going to get lucky anytime in the foreseeable future if he doesn’t stop harassing his partner who happens to be my friend.”
    “Thank your wife for me. I’ll see you in the morning.” Not letting her partner get another sentence in, Danny ended the call.
    When she went back to the spa tub room, Jake had gotten out and wrapped a towel around his hips, a look that suited him very well. The way he walked toward her reminded her of the way the cat she used to have stalked prey. It made her shudder and sent a swirl of desire around her belly.
    “Sam curious about what you’re up to?”
    “Sam’s incurably curious. But it’s none of his damn business.” She reached for him, running her fingers up through the hair on his chest to his jawline then the damp curls at the base of his neck.
    “I don’t care if he knows we’re together. Do you?”
    “That’s not the point. If you give him an inch he takes the whole nine yards. He can’t help it.”
    “He’s very protective of you, isn’t he?”
    “We protect each other. That’s what partners do — they have each other’s backs.”
    Jake outlined her eyes, her nose, and her mouth with his index finger. “I’m glad it’s Sam who has your back. It makes me feel better.”
    “About what?”
    “About caring for someone who does such a dangerous job.”
    “I told you, once I got out of a patrol car, it got a hell of a lot safer. Many of the people I meet are dead. The ones who aren’t are dazed or … ”
    “Or guilty of murdering one person already.”
    “Yes, that’s true. But I have an entire police force at my back when I have to deal with them.” She shook off his hand, annoyed he was pushing about the subject. “What happened to Jake the romantic? Did he disappear someplace? I’d kinda like to have him back.”
    “You want him, you got him. I’ll move the candles to the bedroom. You are staying the night, aren’t you?”

Chapter Ten
    The next weekend was somewhat less complicated. Danny worked all morning on Saturday but wasn’t called back on a new case. So she finally got to make dinner for Jake, although she had to recreate the menu yet again. She’d cooked the salmon steaks for a couple dinners for herself during the week and, sadly, a large chunk of the gingerbread had also found its way into her mouth.
    Actually, the menu wasn’t all that hard to figure out — the halibut was available this time when she went to the store and the pears worked out for poaching. Salad makings were always in season.
    Jake had told her he’d bring the ingredients for martinis and arrived with the requisite gin, vermouth, olives, and two beautiful cocktail glasses, which he’d brought because he’d been appalled when she said she would serve the martinis in wine glasses. He insisted the glasses were to be kept at her house so they could be filled with the appropriate spirits anytime the urge hit her. Or them.
    He mixed the martinis and, after he poured them into the glasses, wandered off to her living room to put on music. She was curious what he’d find that appealed to him but wasn’t surprised when it turned out to be Pink Martini. Any music fan in Portland liked the local band with the world-beat sound.
    She was plating the Marcona almonds, Manchego cheese, and crackers they would snack on while they had their cocktails when she heard him call, “Hey, how come you have this?”
    “What
this
?” she asked.
    He appeared at the kitchen door holding something she should have known he’d notice. “
This
this.”
    “It’s a menorah,” she said. “It’s used to light the candles during Hanukkah.”
    He gave her a raised eyebrow and a half smile. “I’m aware of what it is, Danny. What I don’t know is why you have it.”
    “My mother’s Jewish. We always celebrated Hanukkah. She gave it to me when I went off to college so I could keep up the tradition.”
    “Your mother’s Jewish? According to tradition, that means you’re Jewish,