DEEP INTO THEIR CONVERSATION, Gwen confided, “Sometimes I think Clayton is fighting over Josh’s custody only because he’s obsessed with winning.” She could hardly believe she’d spilled her story to Aaron Zimmerman, of all people. But he’d offered to listen at the exact moment she’d desperately needed someone to talk to. She’d been talking and he’d been listening for nearly an hour.

“Maybe he just misses his son and wishes he could spend more time with him,” Aaron suggested. “He may be dealing with his loss badly.”

“Ha. Not Clay,” she insisted.

“He reconsidered his New York trip—doesn’t that show he wants what’s best for you and Joshua?”

“Are you taking his side in this? Men sticking together or something? Trust me—Clay had some personal reason to jerk me around about our weekend plans. Don’t be so naive as to think he was being altruistic.”

Instead of taking offense, Aaron laughed, and the sound sent an unexpected flash of delight through her. At the same time, she was irritated he’d try to defend Clay. Knowing the danger of enjoying Aaron’s easy laugh—or anything else about him, she clung to her irritation and was silent.

“I guess I just can’t believe Clay could be so one-dimensional,” Aaron said. “He must love his son, right? And he sounded contrite when he gave me the message that he’d leave Josh with you for the weekend. He couldn’t have had any way of knowing you’d given away the tickets so quickly.”

“You don’t know him. Clayton Haverty is a narcisstic ass, Aaron. He only wants what’s best for himself.” And why, she wondered, did she feel the need to defend her image of Clay to Aaron? She shouldn’t care how Aaron perceived her ex, or at least she knew she shouldn’t care.

“I’m not trying to annoy you,” he said. “I just think there may be another way to look at things.”

Even if he was right, Gwen didn’t want to hear it. It angered her that she’d spilled her guts to this man—the worst person on earth for her to confide in—and now he was taking Clayton’s side. “Wow, it’s so late. I chewed your ear off and I’m sorry for that.”

“No problem. I’m a single parent, too. Except I don’t have to cope with still having the other parent…around.”

Gwen heard the hitch in his speech. At times she might wish that Clayton would just disappear off the face of the earth, but losing a well-loved spouse would be a whole different thing.

The undertone of their late-night conversation turned awkward. At last she said, “I can’t even remember why you called me in the first place.”

“Right. I just realized we still hadn’t made arrangements to trade our phones. And I need mine back. Name a time and place to make the trade.”

“I have court in the morning. Can we meet before that at the coffee shop, say around eight o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “See you then. Sleep well, Gwen.”

His words came across the phone in a soft, sensual whisper, though she told herself he couldn’t have meant them to stir her the way they did.

Gwen stared at the dormant PDA as if it had suddenly caught fire. She cringed over the intimacy of the conversation she’d had with Aaron. Knowing she needed to put some distance between them, she came up with an alternate plan to exchange phones, one that didn’t involve actually seeing each other.

HE DREAMED OF BETH. BUT not the smiling, sweet woman he’d been married to. This Beth was sullen and accusing. She kept demanding to know why he was glad she was dead, asking him why he didn’t love her anymore, threatening to take Ben away from him. He startled awake from the nightmare, shaken and sweaty. He looked at Beth’s photo on the nightstand.

“What the hell was that?” he asked the image. But he thought he knew why his subconscious had gone in such a horrible direction.

He was developing a fondness for Gwen Haverty. And last night, he’d talked to her about how hard being a single parent must be when the other parent was still around to meddle. Right after he’d said it, he’d wanted to explain that he hadn’t meant he was glad his wife was dead. But he hadn’t found the opportunity to correct the error, and his dreams had tormented him as a result.

“I still love you,” he whispered to Beth’s picture. “I will always love you.” Yet, in a corner of his mind, he knew he needed to begin living more fully.

Fortunately, the responsibilities of getting Ben ready for another day at summer camp took his mind off the unnerving paths his thoughts seemed to be taking lately. In fact, a very chatty Ben demanded so much of his attention while they were in the car that Aaron didn’t hear the PDA ring. It wasn’t until he’d gotten all the way to the coffee shop and inside to order a latte that he realized Gwen had called him.

He dialed her back. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Oh…I…well, I have to prepare for court. And I need to leave in about two minutes. So I thought it would be better if you just come to my office and drop off my phone and I’ll leave yours here for you to pick up.” Her voice was cool and her words clipped.

“Uh, no, sorry, that won’t work, Counselor. It’s bad enough you’ve had my phone all this time—at least you’re trustworthy. But I don’t want my phone hanging around the State Attorney’s Office, thank you very much. Don’t let it out of your sight—it could fall into the wrong hands.”

A split second later, she laughed. “I don’t know of anyone whose hands could be more wrong than mine, from your perspective. But thanks for the vote of confidence about my trustworthiness.”

He wanted to put her at ease, if he could. “Hey, we forged a bond as single parents last night. You can’t be mean to me so soon after talking about our sons.”

“That sounds about right,” she agreed.

“So meet me for lunch at Lexington Market and I’ll treat. But only after you give me my phone back.”

“Um, I really have to get to court—”

“So twelve-thirty right out front at the main doors. It’s a date.” And he thumbed off the phone.

NATURALLY, THE STUBBORN man had thwarted her alternate plan. He was always thwarting her. It seemed to be his favorite pastime. And now she apparently had a lunch date with him. She could call him back and declare that she would not be meeting him today or any other day, but she couldn’t think of how to justify taking such a hard stand. It’s not as though he’d been hitting on her. Quite the contrary, he’d behaved more like a best friend, a buddy, a kindred soul in the tar pits of single parenthood.

When the hour to meet him finally arrived, Gwen didn’t want to go. She had no clear understanding of why she wanted to stand him up, but there it was. The closer she got to the area of town where her GPS guided her, the more anxiety she felt. She’d never been to Lexington Market, though she’d heard of it. Her parents hadn’t taken her into Baltimore when she’d grown up in the nearby suburbs, because D.C. was nearly as close and the activities there were mostly free of charge. This part of the city was unfamiliar to her. She told herself that this was what was making her anxious.

Even when she found parking, she couldn’t relax and enjoy the unseasonably cool August day. As she walked across the lot to the main doors of the large building, she wondered what she’d gotten herself into. And she asked herself why this meeting wasn’t similar to all the others she’d had with different attorneys, many far more intimidating or handsome or difficult than Aaron Zimmerman.

Then she saw him standing there. She stopped dead in her tracks, wondering why he made her so uncomfortable. Aaron caught sight of her from across the open space. He smiled broadly and gave a welcoming wave. Gwen had her answer then. Despite his rolled-up shirt-sleeves, too-wide tie with loosened knot, and pants that would have been appropriate at a barbecue, the awful truth was that she was susceptible to Aaron’s charm—and especially that smile.

Wrong, wrong, wrong! She couldn’t be attracted to the enemy. Or any man, for that matter. She’d learned her lesson with Clayton. She would keep this meeting professional.

She lifted her hand to acknowledge him but forced her smile to remain tepid. “May I have my phone, please?”

“Only if you give me mine,” he said. When she rolled her eyes and reached into her purse for the PDA, he added, “Maybe we should hand them over at the same time, make sure neither of us does a double cross.”

She had a hard time tamping down a grin. Facial expression under rigid control, she proffered the phone to him. He held out the identical one to her.

Slowly, he inched her BlackBerry closer to her, then jerked it back a little. “How do I know that’s mine? Maybe it’s a decoy so you can get yours and still keep mine.”

The laughter in his eyes was hard to resist. “Stop it.” She grabbed her PDA and tossed his the three inches into his hand. He captured it against his chest, then thumbed it to life.

“Okay, unless you had the cleverness to put Ben’s photo on a bogus phone, this one must be mine. So that’s settled. Now let’s go eat.”

“To be honest, I’m not very hungry.” Which was a lie. She hadn’t gotten breakfast and she was famished. “Now that we have our own phones, let’s just go our separate ways.”

He looked crestfallen for a moment. “But then I’ll have to eat alone and I hate that. Besides, you don’t want people to think you’re avoiding me and denying my clients justice. C’mon. I’m buyin’.” Then he flashed her that smile again.

She hesitated, but hunger forced the decision. “Fine. Then let’s get on with it.”

“Today, we’re going on a Baltimore food adventure. Follow me.”

AARON KNEW HE SHOULD have accepted her suggestion to go their separate ways, but he hadn’t been able to do that. All morning, as he waded through a stack of letters and case files that had come into Release Initiative from inmates asking for help, he’d thought about taking her through the famous public market with its specialty food booths. He’d known she’d be in a crisp suit and heels, and he hadn’t been disappointed—and delighted—at the prospect of taking her around such an informal place to sample the phenomenal tastes Baltimore had to offer. Maybe he wanted to loosen up the district attorney for a few minutes, expose her softer side. Then he might more easily extract a promise from her to talk to Omar’s witness.

Yeah, that was it, he told himself. He’d think about whether there were any other reasons later on when he had time to deal with the resulting guilt he was sure to feel.

He led her to a food booth.

“How ya doin’, Aaron?” said the guy behind the glass case of the Mary Mervis Deli.

“Doin’ just fine, Pete.” He eyed the offerings. “What’s good today?”

“Got our world-famous shrimp salad, but we also got this crab salad here.” He pointed to a bowl in the display case. “I could fix you up some nice subs with that.” Pete glanced toward Gwen, who stood with a bewildered look on her face. “This your lady friend? Miss, you got yourself a real nice man here.” He turned again to Aaron. “Guess what?”

Aaron chuckled. “What?”

“Paul is gonna graduate college next May!” Pete said.

“That’s great!” Aaron knew Pete’s brother had struggled through college. It was good to hear he’d finally made it.

“Yeah, he’s doing something with computers at U of M, Baltimore Campus.” Pete pronounced Baltimore like a native—saying Ball-more. “So, what can I get you two.”

Aaron ordered both seafood salads, then led Gwen to the Harbor City Bake Shop for fresh bread.

“Everyone knows you,” Gwen observed after he chatted with the shopgirl and they headed toward Lexington Fried Chicken.

“I like coming here when I find the time. Some of these shops date back decades.”

“It’s not just that,” she said. “You’re a hero to these people.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable taking credit. “They equate me with Release Initiative. My employer is the last hope for some Baltimore families. And naturally I’m only taking you to the spots where people like me.”

“Aaron!” the manager at the chicken place called out. “How ’bout them O’s?” Dave was referring to the Baltimore Orioles baseball team but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Who’s your lovely lady, here?”

Aaron made introductions, but perversely failed to make the correction that Gwen was not his lovely lady.

“Aaron and I are colleagues,” she said as she shook hands.

“Colleagues, huh?” Dave leaned forward as if he was about to tell Gwen a secret, then said, “Take my advice, miss. Keep it that way. I knew him back in high school and he was a real stoner. A nice lady like you can do better.”

Gwen looked so perplexed, Aaron laughed out loud. “I asked you to keep that information to yourself, man! I’m an officer of the court now.”

Dave winked at Gwen and she smiled, then laughed. “Good to know,” she said.

There was hope for Gwen, Aaron thought. He quickly ordered and led them away before any more of his secrets were revealed. “Dessert’s next.”

Gwen smiled. “Okay, I admit I’m starting to enjoy this. I can hardly believe I’ve lived near Baltimore all my life but never came here. Funny how that works—you live near a major tourist attraction and never go yourself.”

At Konstant’s Candy, he bought freshly made fudge. Finally, they picked up Southern Sweet Tea made with honey instead of sugar at Mother’s Deli.

“We have too much food here,” Gwen observed.

“Maybe,” he agreed. He found them a table and they set their bundles down. “You should come in May when they have the Preakness Crab Derby. Hilarious. We could bring Ben and Josh.” The instant he said this, he regretted it. She would close down now, he predicted.

But she smiled. “That would be fun. But don’t think for a minute my professional judgment can be swayed by the taste of Maryland crab.”

He laughed. “Maybe if I withhold the fudge.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she exclaimed in mock horror. “Josh loves fudge.”

“You can take him whatever’s leftover from our feast today.”

“And he’ll be bouncing off the walls from the sugar high. That kind of thing has to be planned far in advance to insure the least craziness afterward.” She smiled at him. But then she looked away, giving him the impression that she was uncomfortable about something.

“So, try this first,” he urged as he held out one of the tubs of salad.

“Um, no, that’s okay. I’m not a big fan of shrimp.”

“Okay, we’ll save that one until I get you warmed up. This one, then.” He opened the lid of crabmeat salad and stabbed a morsel onto a plastic fork, then passed it to her. With a second utensil, he took a bite for himself and savored it. “Mmm.”

“Seriously? It’s just crab salad.”

“But it’s the first bite of a meal that includes local crab, world-famous shrimp, the best fried chicken ever and concludes with freshly made fudge. You gotta think about the flavors, the tang and the sweet and the texture. Go ahead and try it. But think about what you’re eating.”

She put the crabmeat into her mouth. Nodded. “Okay, it’s good. But I’m really hungry, so anything would be good right now.”

“Hmm, not long ago, you said you weren’t hungry. But that’s okay. Maybe it came on suddenly. Try this.” He shoved the bag of fried chicken toward her.

He even got her to taste the shrimp and admit it was the best she’d ever had. It was impossible not to watch her lips close around the food. Impossible not to notice the fullness and the slight upturn at the corners of her lips. Impossible not to imagine those lips on his own.

“It’s all so good!” she said as she let herself truly enjoy what she was eating.

Her exclamation broke the spell. He was able to look away. When he dared to glance at her again, she was just Gwen Haverty, district attorney. He wanted her to stay that way. Because if he let his image of her change too much, his world would turn upside down.

“So about Omar Kingston,” he said. “I hope you’ll read the file I sent you and then go with me to hear the witness.” He handed her a package of fudge and she nibbled on a small piece.

“I’ve already read the file you sent over,” she said. “And I have to depose the witness with you or risk accusations from your organization. But I don’t think it’ll matter. Kingston is a danger to society and needs to stay where he is.”

And with that declaration, Gwen reminded him of all the reasons the two of them couldn’t really be friends. They were opposites on the job, in temperament, and in beliefs about justice. Too bad she was the first and only woman to make him feel this alive since Beth’s death.

He looked at her and disappointment suffused him even though he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised. “And your judgment of Omar is based on what, exactly? Could it be his background as a troubled foster kid? Or was it that car he stole five years prior to the murder he was wrongly blamed for?” He waved his hand, not really wanting her to answer. “He was beaten up last night by thugs in lockup who know he wouldn’t hurt a fly, even as big as he is. He doesn’t belong there and we need to get him out before he’s hurt worse.”

She stared at him without a shred of sympathy in her eyes.

“Never mind,” he said. “Just tell me a date and time to go out to the hospice in Frederick to see the witness and I’ll make the arrangements.”

She sighed and began to collect the remains of their meal. “If you can’t get the woman to the court, it could be a while before I can clear enough time on my schedule.”

“She’s dying. I explained that already. She doesn’t have ‘a while.’ Neither does Omar.” He helped her divide the food into two bags.

“Look, get an affidavit and I’ll see what I can do with that.” Gwen accepted one of the bags of leftovers and stood.

“Gwen, we both know your boss isn’t going to approve springing a man convicted of murder based on the affidavit of a dead woman. I need you to hear her yourself.” He stood, too, and tossed their trash into a receptacle. When he looked at her again, he could see the coldness seeping back over her.

She was hardening her heart, as he knew she often had to do to be successful at her job. “I’ll get back to you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said gravely. She wouldn’t make eye contact with him, and he turned to go.

“Thank you for lunch,” she called to his back. Aaron waved his hand farewell without turning to face her again. Now that he knew her softer side, the ice-princess facade she wore like armor just broke his heart.