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“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“Well, the only things I know about you are that you’re from Boston—or at least you were . . .”
“Still am.”
“And you’re a cop,” she finished, eyeing the badge around his neck.
Nico tensed. “Missing persons detective.” At her expression, he frowned. “You seem surprised.”
“No, it’s just, you seem a little young, that’s all. When I think of a police detective, I can’t help but picture an overweight, balding man with a mustache.”
He blinked. “You just described Andy Sipowicz.”
Getting the NYPD Blue reference, Lexie smiled. “It was my dad’s favorite show.”
Nico laughed, the rigidity in his jaw and shoulders melting away as quickly as it had invaded seconds before. “Well, while I appreciate the compliment, thirty-five is not that young, as I have to keep reminding Frank. He keeps calling me ‘kid’ and I’m afraid the nickname is gonna stick.”
“I can see how that might get annoying.” Lexie failed to hide her amusement before her face turned thoughtful. “Your parents must be proud of you.”
“They are.”
“They live in Boston too?”
“Sure do, plus my three happily married—and very opinionated—sisters, and a horde of nieces and nephews I can hardly keep up with.”
Her eyes widened. “Big family.”
“Italians,” he said dryly.
“You’re lucky,” she said.
Nico ran his eyes over her face, taking everything in, realizing he had no idea what it felt like to be all but alone in the world like she did. “Maybe someday you could meet them.”
Lexie scoffed.
“No, I mean it. I’m sure they’d love to meet the woman who saved my life. They’d make a big deal out of it too. Lots of food.”
“You told them about me?”
“I did.”
When her eyes skittered away again, Nico felt compelled to ask something he’d been curious about since she took him into the private office. It was a little cheeky, not exactly tactful, but . . . “So, are you married?”
Their eyes collided. Lexie’s jaw dropped slightly, that wonderful crimson flushing her cheeks. For a moment, she was completely unguarded.
Then she snapped her teeth together. “No.”
“Boyfriend?”
“You’re very direct.”
Nico grinned. “Best way to be. You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She didn’t have to. Her spine looked stiff as an ironing board.
