Fatal Hearts by Norah Wilson

shoes?” she asked.
    “As much as I can, yes.”
    “So be it,” she said. “Tomorrow night, then. My place. It’s Burn Notice night, and it’s your turn to bring pizza.” She produced her phone. “We might as well get each other’s details.”
    He punched in her number and address, then gave her his phone number.
    “What time?” he asked, when she’d finished programming her phone and tucked it back in her purse.
    “Seven. And make it a veggie pizza.”
    “Veggie?” He made no attempt to hide the dismay in his voice.
    “Yes, veggie.” Smiling, she keyed the ignition and the Subaru’s engine sputtered to life. “Now close my door.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He obliged, then stepped back as she reversed out of the parking space and drove away.
    He glanced up at the old Victorian, his smile dying as his gaze found the lighted window of Josh’s bedroom. His bedroom for the next couple of weeks.
    I’m not giving up on you, Josh. If your death wasn’t natural, I’ll uncover the truth.
    With that determination, he unlocked his rental, retrieved his leather travel bag, and trudged back toward the house.

    Hayden was three blocks away before she realized she was holding herself so tensely, something was likely to snap.
    Easing her death grip on the steering wheel, she took a few slow, deep breaths and willed her muscles to relax. After a few moments, they complied.
    Much better.
    Small wonder she’d been tense. Between Sylvia Stratton’s company and her increasingly acute awareness of Boyd McBride, she’d overloaded her circuits.
    Boyd. Several times tonight, she’d caught him looking at her face. No, not her face—her mouth . Had he been thinking about kissing her?
    God help her, she’d been thinking the same thing.
    She didn’t know what was more bizarre, that she was having this strong reaction to someone she’d met just that day—the handshake at the funeral was so brief and impersonal, it hardly counted—or that that someone was a genetic duplicate of the best friend she’d just lost.
    Okay, that last part was definitely the more bizarre.
    What would Josh think to see her worked up like this over his twin?
    Her laugh emerged as more of a sob. He’d probably think it was hysterical.
    No, he’d have warned me away.
    The truth of that thought resonated deep within her. That’s exactly what Josh would have done. Well, eventually, once he noticed her normal immunity to masculine charms was absent. Josh had clearly loved and admired his twin, but he’d once told Hayden he despaired of Boyd ever settling down with one woman.
    Boyd had said it himself. He was no Josh.
    For that matter, Sylvia Stratton had seen it too, on first sight. What had she said? You’re a harder customer than our Joshua, unless I miss my guess.
    And, yes, Hayden had seen it for herself. It was impossible to look into those gold-brown eyes and not see the walls, the reserve. Oh, she was sure there was good reason for that distance. As a cop in Toronto, it was probably safe to say he’d seen some horrific things.
    Unlike Josh, she suspected he’d have no problem compartmentalizing the pieces of his life. Job, family, sex. A woman would have to fit into one of those neat compartments and be content to stay there. Definitely not an attractive quality in a man.
    Not that she was looking for a man. God, no! But if she were, she’d know enough to leave this one alone. Men like Josh were more her speed. Well-adjusted, emotionally mature, stable. If she were looking for a romantic relationship, she’d pick a guy just like Josh. Well, hopefully one she was more sexually attracted to. She’d seen friends go into relationships where they had great compatibility on almost every front but not much chemistry. They hadn’t been much more successful than the ill-matched ones who had nothing but chemistry going for them.
    So why did her stomach drop when she thought about spending tomorrow evening with Boyd?
    “Duh. Because he thinks