He missed her heat instantly, but became contrite because the confusion and alarm on her face were so real.

“Hilly, it’s okay,” he soothed, attempting to bring her back from the edge of whatever precipice she was headed toward by taking an additional step away from her. “It was a wonderful kiss. A memorable kiss for me, but if you don’t want to do it again, I’ll back off.”

The offer almost made him groan, but Hilly’s comfort took precedence over the colossal attraction he one-hundred percent felt for her. Hell, he’d slap duct-tape over his lips if it would make her feel better.

“I… I’m being an idiot,” she managed. “It was…fine.”

Fine was not the adjective Cisco would have used, and by her initial response, Hilly was kidding herself. That kiss had been epic, and she had to have felt it.

Which meant he needed to ramp things down from “slow” to “a snail’s pace”. It would kill him, but…

“I agree,” he told her, fighting not to bite his tongue on the lie. “It was fine. So, now that both our curiosities have been assuaged, should we get back to being working buddies? If that’s where you see us,” he clarified.

Her eyes finally focused on him as she visibly swallowed. “Where do you see us?” she choked out.

Did he go with the truth? Yes, but maybe a muted version.

“I actually think we might have a little chemistry going on between us, so my thought is, once you feel comfortable with having me around camp, we might think about going out on a real date.”

When she went to give the rebuttal he knew was poised on her tongue, Cisco placed a gentle finger against her lips.

“If it makes you feel better delaying an outing between us until the end of the camp season because you’re feeling it might be a conflict of interest between business and pleasure, I’m okay with waiting.”

He wasn’t really, and he’d use every bit of charm in his arsenal to wear Hilly down sooner. But she didn’t have to know that.

A huge sigh escaped her, and her shoulders went from up around her ears, to back where gravity intended them. “Right. That would probably be for the best. I…like you, but I’m very focused on my job, and want to bring the best experience possible to my campers without distractions that could impede my program.”

“I understand,” Cisco answered sincerely this time, liking that she viewed him as a distraction. “Just know this. I’ll abide by your rules, but I’m still interested.”

A shy smile broke over her lips as she dipped her head. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

That was something. At least she hadn’t completely shut him down.

He opened the door, giving her his brightest smile as he stood back to let her leave. “Thanks for lunch,” he said, then winked, “and for dessert.”

Yeah. He had to throw that in.

She flushed again, then mumbled something before she fled his foyer and practically ran the entire distance down the walkway to her car.

Cisco stood watching. He wasn’t sure how he’d rate their afternoon’s interaction. “A” for effort, “A” for that stellar kiss, but a “C-” for nailing down an actual date?

Cripes. He’d have to work on that.

He waved as she pulled from his driveway, then closed the door behind him, leaning back against it, contemplating the skittish woman some more.

Something clearly had Hilly doubting herself, and doubting his sincerity. Cisco just didn’t think it was all due to one shitty boyfriend in college, as she’d insinuated. Oh, the prick may have added to her insecurities, but they seemed more deep-rooted than that.

Cisco pushed himself off the door, knowing he had to clean up the outside table, even though his energy had plummeted. He made quick work of trash removal, then walked back inside toward his couch and flopped down. Maybe after a little rest he’d dig further into the anomaly that was Hilly.

Cisco woke with a start. It was dark outside, and his doorbell was ringing.

Shit. He’d been out all afternoon, and most of the evening. He sat up quickly and winced. Clearly the wound was already starting to knit, and it was pulling like a bastard with his sudden movement.

A little more gingerly, he eased himself off the couch, reaching up to run a hand through his smooshed curls before bringing his palm down to his face where he breathed into it, then sniffed.

Yup. Nap breath. But there was nothing he could do about it right now.

He opened the door, and…

“Aunt Suze, Uncle Frank. Come on in.” he backed up. “This is a surprise.”

His precinct chief—i.e. Uncle Frank—gruffed out a response. “You think your aunt would take no for an answer once she found out what happened to you?”

Aunt Suze gave Frank a little cuff on the arm. “Right. Like you weren’t worried to pieces as well,” she admonished.

“Okay,” Uncle Frank admitted without putting up a fight. “I might have been a little concerned. How are you feeling, Cisco?”

“A bit stiff. Even more achy. But not bad, considering.”

Yeah. Things could have gone way more sideways.

Cisco invited his long-time family friends, in. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be right back. I just woke up from a nap, and I need to brush my teeth.”

“Take your time, dear,” his Aunt Suze told him, and that’s when he noticed the tote she was carrying. “I’ve brought dinner, and if it’s alright with you, I’ll set things up on your table.”

“Sounds great,” Cisco said, enthusiastically. Yup. His stomach was growling. He hoofed it down the short hall.

“If you’re not too tired,” she called out after him, “we’d love to join you for the supper I brought.”

Cisco knew his uncle would want all the dirty deets on how the operation had gone down yesterday, even though he’d probably reviewed the available video at least a dozen times, and interrogated Mason. Cisco was touched at both their concerns’.

“Stay,” he yelled back before ducking into the bathroom.

This was an unexpected boon. Earlier, before he’d fallen completely into the Land of Nod, he’d been contemplating cheese and crackers for supper, since he knew he wouldn’t have the energy to cook. But now, with something homemade from his aunt’s kitchen being placed on the table, he was psyched at the upgrade.

By the time Cisco was refreshed and comfortable, he made his way back to the kitchen to see a large bowl of his aunt’s pesto-covered, goat-cheese ravioli on the table, along with a huge loaf of homemade bread that still looked warm. Plates and flatware were already on the table.

“When did you have time to cook all this, Auntie?” Cisco asked, taking a seat as his visitors did, as well. “Weren’t you at a quilting thing this weekend?”

She huffed, lifting his plate and spooning on a huge portion. “You think, once I heard from your mother this morning about what happened yesterday, that I could spend another minute stitching fabric?”

“My mother worries too much, but⁠—"

Just as Cisco was about to thank her, his doorbell rang again.

“Geeze. Grand Central Station around here tonight,” he quipped, easing up from his chair to get the door.