Of all the people who could have walked into my café today, it had to be him.
It'd been a few years since I'd seen him last, but I'd know that messy sun-bleached hair, bright blue eyes and impish grin anywhere.
Marty Deeks, Detective with the Los Angeles Police Department.
Or as I (and probably a good chunk of L.A.'s female population) liked to call him — "The One Who Got Away".
And of course there was a girl with him right now. A pretty one with long brown hair.
Marty always was a sucker for brunettes.
I gave a gentle toss of my own blonde hair, shaking an errant curl out of my face.
Fortunately, he hadn't seen me yet.
Oh, wait — spoke too soon. Here he comes. Damn it.
Play it cool…he's just another customer. Never mind the fact that my heart just skipped a beat when those blue eyes of his locked onto mine.
"Well, well…look what the cat dragged in."
My friendly tone earned me a flash of that cute grin I used to love so much.
"Hi, Sarah."
"Hi, Marty." God, he looked as good as ever! Possibly even more so.
Somehow I couldn't stop the smile that pasted itself to my face. "Are you on a donut break, or am I under arrest for something?"
"Actually, we're looking for some information," the woman at his side spoke up authoritatively, showing her badge.
"New girlfriend?" I quipped to Marty.
"Partner," they both answered at the same time.
Aww, that was cute.
But just partners, my ass. These two liked each other — I could tell already.
For one thing, they stood far too close to each other to be strictly professional. Not to mention the subtly territorial vibe I was getting from this girl with the almost exotically mismatched eyes.
Besides…how could any heterosexual woman with a pulse work alongside Marty Deeks and not end up getting personally involved with him?
Marty pulled up a picture on his phone. "Have you seen this guy come in here before?"
I put my hand on the phone to tilt it up so I could actually see it, just coincidentally (okay, deliberately!) touching his fingers in the process.
And his partner looked like she wanted to strangle me for that gratifying little bit of contact.
Possessive much?
"Nope…can't say that I have," I answered Marty's question, reluctantly letting go of the phone and his fingers. "But we do get a lot of customers in here — not everyone's memorable."
"Okay. If you do see someone who looks like him, could you give us a call?" He started to hand me a business card with his phone number on it, but his partner beat him to it with one of her own.
Wow, who wears the pants in that relationship? Obviously, she didn't want me to have his phone number.
Should I bother telling her that I've had his number before…and a whole lot more than that, too?
Eh, why stir the pot? Marty was the one who got away, not the one who was coming back.
"Kensi Blye, Federal Agent," I read the card out loud. "Are you a Fed now too, Marty?"
He glanced at Kensi Blye, Federal Agent, and they shared some kind of secret look between them before he answered, "Still LAPD."
"Oh. So if I just happened to feel like dropping in and saying 'Hi'…I could still find you in the same place?"
Yes, I decided to stir the pot after all, just because of the way Agent Blye was currently glaring at me.
"Uh, actually…" Marty hedged, glancing at his partner again. "I'm rarely at the precinct anymore. Out and about a lot, you know…solving crimes…"
I leaned on the counter and gave him the sweet smile he used to like back when we were dating. "You always were good at crime-solving…among many other talents…"
Oh my god, he actually blushed! Not very much, but still! How adorable.
And there was yet another unspoken conversation passing from Agent Blye's eyes to Marty's.
I hoped she knew how lucky she was to have him in her life.
By way of apology for flirting with her guy, I offered them each a donut free of charge.
"No, thank you," Agent Blye refused with forced politeness as she put her hand firmly into the crook of Marty's elbow. "Deeks?"
"I'd love a donut," Marty answered me warmly, and I wondered if he accepted it only because his 'partner' girlfriend didn't want him to.
"You still like sprinkles?"
He grinned. "You know it."
Basking in the warmth of that grin, I smiled back, slipping a sprinkle-covered donut into a small bag and handing it to him. "See you around."
Poor Marty — he managed to squeak out a "Thanks!" as Agent Blye practically dragged him out the door.
I watched through the window as Marty took out the donut, tore it in half, and shared it with her.
That's love, right there.
She didn't want the donut when I offered, but she accepted it from him without a moment's hesitation and took an awfully big bite of it.
And now she was laughing at whatever cute thing he'd said, and — oh! She just punched him! Right in the shoulder.
Violent girl. I could never hit Marty — even at his most obnoxious, he was still terribly lovable.
And her punch must've been just a love-tap because now he was laughing along with her…and draping his arm across her shoulders in a gesture that was far more than just partners.
I couldn't help the reminiscent sigh that escaped my lips. We used to be happy like that too, once upon a time.
Yep…it really sucked to see the one who got away being perfectly content with somebody else.