“Could this be it?” Aaron stepped from his SUV into the parking lot of a run-down motel in the bad part of town. The sort of shady that had nothing to do with trees.

      One of the unit doors opened. Sarah, dressed in a gaudy top and worn jeans, stepped out. “Hi there.”

      “Hi.” He held out the phone and tried not to balk at the horrific attire. “Here’s the evidence.”

      She laughed and stepped forward, reaching. Their hands brushed with the transference of the cell.

      He paused, endeared at how her cheeks matched the color of her pink shirt beneath the V-neck of her old, Army tent-looking sweater. One that looked as if it had waged a war and lost. Still experiencing a zing in his fingers, he shoved his hands in his pockets at the same time as she fumbled her phone into hers.

      “So,” they said simultaneously, then laughed.

      “You live in a motel?” Aaron rocked back on his heels to view the buzzing sign, missing the first and last letters. “Or should I say an ‘ote’?”

      Her shy smile faded. But only for a second. “For now. It’s a lot nicer inside than the outside looks.”

      He peered around the neglected neighborhood. Same area where Celia Munez, now Peña, wife of team member Manny, lost her first husband. He was killed here during a drug bust years prior to her meeting Manny. The team had talked of ways to reach out to the area’s gang-prone teens and their families.

      “This isn’t exactly the safest part of town.”

      “I figured that out. I plan to get a better place. I just wanted to wait until…”

      Her voice trailed but he knew her thoughts. She wanted to wait to see if she got this position as his boys’ nanny, for if she did, she’d have a place to live. But until he was one hundred percent certain she was it, he couldn’t give her false hope. Still, he hated for a young woman like her to be living in a place like this.

      “I’m sure you’ll find something better soon.” He offered a reassuring smile.

      She studied his face, then nodded. Yet her uncertain expression suggested she held doubt over getting the job.

      Throat cleared, he hesitated a moment, deciding how best to word this. “I’m not that good at telling people how I feel. I’m better at giving orders and controlling insubordination.” He cleared his throat again. “But I just wanted to say thanks.”

      “For?”

      “Yesterday. I’ve never seen my children laugh that hard for that long. Ever.”

      She looked momentarily disturbed. Same way he felt.

      “Whatever you brought to our home that day, Sarah, don’t ever lose that in your life. No matter how things work out with us, I mean, with this job.”

      She nodded. He was surprised to see moisture sheen her eyes. He stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets to keep from tending to the lone tear streaking down her face. The back of her hand swiped it away like a pesky mosquito. Fidgety, she gathered gobs of that overgrown eyesore of a sweater and twisted its hem in her small hands. Her frazzled mood matched the sweater. She didn’t seem the type to cry. So why did she?

      He shifted his feet, which ached to go to her. “What did I say that upset you?”

      Her shoulders rose then drooped. “It just seemed the kind of speech a person gets before they get let go, is all.”

      Did she not know? Letting her go was the last thing on his mind right now. Seeing her luminous eyes and lips swollen with emotion and the way moonlight played with hair as shiny as gold…

      He swallowed. “I have no reason to think you won’t get the job. But I also live under the logic that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.”

      She gave an unexpected laugh. “In other words, you’re looking for my fatal flaw?”

      “Guess so. I like your bluntness, by the way.”

      “I prefer to think of it as transparency.” Her smile faded and her eyes dimmed. “I am flawed, Aaron. But I’ve learned and grown from the mistakes of my youth. Some really big mistakes.”

      “We all have.” He shifted. “And you’re still young.”

      “Which means I’ll make more mistakes?”

      “No, I meant that…I guess I’m not sure what I meant.”

      “If you choose to trust me, you won’t be sorry. But if this isn’t meant to be, then there’s someone better for your family. Trust your judgment.”

      He nodded, amazed at the level of wisdom riding her young words and the power of conviction driving them. Whether she ended up being their nanny or not, this was an extraordinary woman. One he’d not soon forget if things didn’t work out.

      “Now, get back to those beautiful boys and watch them sleep. Give Mina my regards.” She stepped back toward the concrete landing that ran flush with the drab units.

      At the sudden proximal distance, Aaron experienced a dip of disappointment. Surprised himself with acknowledgment that once here, he didn’t want to leave her presence.

      The way she paused and tapped her toe on rotting boards meant to be someone’s lame attempt at landscaping, maybe she felt the same.

      September’s late evening breeze lifted silken hair off slender shoulders and swirled fallen multicolored leaves behind her. Stepping away from the wood and onto the gravel lot toward him again, she rubbed her arms. “Chilly for fall.”

      “I think we’re expecting a harsh winter. I should let you get inside out of the cold. Again, sorry about the phone.”

      “No need to apologize. I understand.”

      He backed up a step and tried to think of something intelligent to say to exit the conversation, but his brain felt first-date awkward. Weird. “So, I’ll be in touch.”

      “I hope so.”

      Aaron turned to go with her softly spoken words streaming across his heart, slipping past barriers he’d spent years steel-bolting against such feminine wiles. Yet he was certain she had no idea the effect she stirred in him. How her voice melted the metal off the chains around his heart. Guileless. Words issued one breath beyond a whisper. Yet her honesty gushed. And it echoed his thoughts right now.

      I hope so, too.

      At the concrete