Which meant a change of subject from her life to his, was warranted.

“How long have you owned your house?” she threw out, and as she figured, she got a narrowing of Cisco’s eyes for her efforts.

“Okay. If that’s the way you want to play it. We’ll talk about me.”

Busted. Clearly, he’d seen right through her diversionary tactic.

“I just want you to understand this, though, Hilly,” he spoke seriously. “I’ll give you today, but that doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying to uncover everything about you as the camp season progresses.”

It was a warning that already had alarms ringing in her head, but Hilly decided she’d roll with it, thankful that she’d been given a temporary reprieve. Maybe, just maybe, she could wrangle a kiss-to-remember out of Cisco before he found out who she really was.

“I know you won’t give up,” she answered, acknowledging out loud that there was something to be revealed, “but I’ll take the deferment.”

Cisco nodded, then continuing to eat his sub, he answered her previously posed question. “I bought this place five years ago, when I was twenty-eight. I’d done the college thing, got my degree in Criminal Justice, then went right to work for the OPD. The job was a good fit for me, as I’ve always been a home-town kind of boy, and I was comfortable staying with my folks during the initial years of my employment, but once I’d saved enough for a downpayment on a house, I knew it was time not only for me, but for them, that I get a place of my own.”

“That’s very considerate of you. I take it you’re still close to your parents?” She remembered Selma and Genero Andera from parent-attended events back in the day, and more recently recognized them around town. If she were being honest, she’d also looked them up on line every now and then over the years to see if she could glean anything about Cisco, who didn’t have a social media presence. One thing Hilly knew for sure? The Andera’s were a very good-looking couple. Undoubtedly, that’s where Cisco had received his handsome mug.

“Yup. I visit them once a week for dinner on a Monday or Tuesday night, but now that I have weekends free like the majority of people in the universe, I’ll probably be seeing more of them, like on weekends for barbeques and stuff.”

“I’m happy for you,” Hilly told him, forking another bite of salad into her mouth.

As they both chewed, the ensuing silence was companionable; not uncomfortable in the least, and she gave a semi-amused, internal eye roll. Of course Cisco was not only smart, funny, and handsome; he was also extremely low-key and easy to be around.

“Do you have any siblings?” she finally asked.

“Nope. Only child.” He picked up a napkin and wiped at a stray onion that had landed on his chin, folding the used paper in half, then in half again, before he laid it neatly aside. “Once my parents reached a certain age without having kids, they began the process of adopting. Which ended up taking so much time and effort that, lucky them, they only got me before they called it quits.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were adopted,” Hilly responded, extremely surprised. “You look exactly like your dad.”

A smug grin appeared on Cisco’s face. “Really? You know my father?” he asked triumphantly.

Shit. Now she’d done it. She’d dug herself a hole.

Armed with the piece of intel Hilly had just let slip, Cisco would soon be on the trail to unearthing who she really was.

She prevaricated, hoping to throw him off the scent. “I’ve, uh, seen him a few times around town.”

“But you knew he was my father,” he continued to probe.

Yup. Cisco’s cop-chops were showing.

Hilly scoffed, attempting a blasé response. “There’s not a lot of people who remain anonymous in such a small burg,” she countered.

“Yet, you do.” Cisco wasn’t giving up, but that wasn’t the deal.

“Uh, uh, Cisco,” she scolded. “You assured me I’d get this one-day stay-of-execution before you continue to probe, and I’m holding you to it.”

She didn’t know what that reprieve would win her exactly, but she wasn’t letting him go back on his word.

“You’re right,” he huffed, polishing off his last bite with relish.

Hilly pushed her salad around, having lost most of her appetite.

“Listen,” he continued. “I want you to feel comfortable enough that you’ll eventually tell me the reason you’re tied up in knots around me, so in that vein, keep asking me questions. I’m an open book. I’ll answer anything.”

Hilly kind of liked this game. She could fill her mental-diary with all things Cisco, then when he disappeared from her life, she’d have memories to pull out and savor.

“Fine. Why is your house so clean?” she blurted out. “I’ve never seen a bachelor pad so devoid of clutter.”

Cisco laughed. “I knew you’d pick up on that, because from what I recall of your camp, you’re pretty organized yourself.”

She snorted. “There’s organized, and there’s freaking immaculate, Cisco. I’m in the former category, but you are firmly in the latter.”

“Caught,” he grinned. “And that’s no secret among people who know me, so I’ll share.” His face grew semi-serious. “The shrinks I went to see as a kid seemed to think my mild OCD comes from a time before my parents, where I most likely lived in poverty and squalor. I can’t remember any of it, but if you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Disarray causes me to become anxious. Setting things to right soothes my soul. It’s become the way I cope.” His head tipped to the right, just slightly. “Does that make you think I’m a nut-job?”

Hilly mentally reared back. Why would he believe that? Obviously, his orderliness was a coping mechanism that worked for him, and who was she to talk? Hilly was very familiar with those kinds of emotional defenses.

“Of course I don’t think you’re crazy,” she assured him. “I think it’s commendable that you live the way you do and are comfortable with it. Nobody, not one person; your friends, family, or acquaintances, should get to say how you live your life.” She ended far too vehemently for the conversation they were having, but she couldn’t help herself.

Cisco, of course, picked up on that.

“Who tried to make you feel bad about being you, Hilly?” he asked gently.

His query was her own fault for getting so steamed, but she managed to deny him a response. “No way, Cisco. You’re asking me questions again.”

“And getting no answers,” he growled back. “But I’m making a mental list, and once today is over, I’m going to ask them all again.”

“You really are relentless.” She pursed her lips and sighed. “Why is my history so important to you?”

She didn’t expect it when Cisco leaned forward over the small table; his face coming within inches from hers.

“Because I find you intriguing. In all ways. And that’s not something that happens to me very often.”

She tried to dismiss the gravity of his statement. “Meaning you normally pick up women based on their outward appearance, only?” she quipped, but with a trace amount of bitterness in her tone that she couldn’t hide.

Cisco frowned, but clarified his position. “I suppose it would look that way to anybody who doesn’t really know me. But in reality…the women I…engage with, are normally the ones who make the first move. I might have been a bit of a player when I was younger, but these days I normally hold out for something…more, and the ladies who approach me because of my job—badge-bunnies, we call them—no longer have much appeal.”

Hilly thought her mouth might be hanging open, and placed a finger under her chin, pushing upward to find out.

It was closed. Just barely.

But damn, Cisco had revealed something very personal about himself, and Hilly wasn’t quite sure how to take it. Did his speech mean he found her more interesting than the women he generally interacted with in bars, or was she in the other category? If she gave in to impulse, leaned forward and kissed him, would he group her with those females who chased after his uniform?

“What are you thinking?” he finally asked, and he was so close she could feel his warm breath on her lips.

Yeah, it smelled like onions, but it didn’t detract from his allure in any way.

“I…”