Chapter 18
The first thing Tess noticed was the light.
Even with her eyes closed, she could sense the brightness behind her lids, the soft warmth of morning sun pushing through the blinds.
For a moment, still caught between sleep and waking, she thought she’d only dreamed it—the heat of his body, the way his mouth had claimed hers, and their night tangled together until exhaustion finally won.
That it had all been some reckless fantasy she’d made up.
Then the mattress dipped behind her. She opened her eyes to see sunlight painting pale stripes across the floor and turned her head just enough to see him.
Brian.
Relief and a rush of warmth surged through her at once.
He was real, solid, sitting there, in boxer briefs.
Gah! He looked so handsome and drool-worthy.
His hair and skin were damp from a recent shower.
His masculine scent lingered—clean soap threaded with the darker, musky trace of sex still clinging to the sheets.
It pulled her right back into the memory of last night, every nerve ending sparking with awareness.
What startled her most wasn’t just that he was still there, but that his presence didn’t feel strange.
There was no awkward scramble for distance, no sudden regret filling the air.
And when his gaze met hers, she didn’t see the familiar signs she dreaded when she hooked up with a man she was interested in, rare as it was.
There was no flicker of second thoughts, no urgency to leave. Just steadiness and want.
He leaned down, bracing a hand on the mattress beside her, and kissed her. Gentle but persistent. More a promise than a demand. Tess let herself sink into it, savoring the warmth of his mouth and the calm that came with it.
Then his stomach growled. Loudly.
She broke away with a startled laugh. “Hungry?”
He smirked and rubbed a hand against his taut abs. “I was just about to ask you the same thing, but my stomach beat me to it.”
He straightened, grabbing his jeans from his duffel bag at the foot of the bed.
She didn’t know where it came from, and he must have noticed her confusion.
“I always keep spare clothes in my truck. My first homicide scene was particularly messy, and I learned quickly to have extra clothes I could change into.”
“Makes sense.” It did. She didn’t go out into the field often, but every so often, she accompanied Dr. Hanson to a homicide or suspicious death to take notes. The M.E.’s office provided protective field gear for those calls.
“There’s a little diner in town,” he said, zipping up his fly. “Nothing fancy, but the food’s good. You want to go?”
Tess tugged the sheet tighter across her chest and sat up, the cotton cool against her skin. The idea of being out in public together should have made her nervous that they were getting too involved, but instead, she found herself nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
A smile tugged at his mouth—somewhere between boyish and roguish—as he pulled on his shirt.
Tess lingered in the warmth of the bed a moment longer, wondering when she’d last felt this kind of lightness.
It was amazing and a little bit terrifying.
She stretched, then pushed away her sudden shyness about being naked and tossed the bed linens aside.
A secret thrill surged through her when Brian’s mouth dropped open as he stared, watching her sashay to the bathroom.
Feeling emboldened, she pivoted a half step and gave him a sassy wink before shutting the door behind her.
Twenty minutes later, the bell over the diner door jingled as they stepped inside, and the familiar scent of coffee and frying bacon wrapped around Tess like a blanket.
A sign told them to seat themselves. The place wasn’t fancy—red vinyl booths, chrome trim dulled by years of use, and a long counter where patrons sat hunched over their mugs—but there was comfort in its simplicity and cleanliness.
She’d passed the place a dozen times, always meaning to stop in.
Now she was walking beside Brian, her hand brushing against his as they moved through the narrow aisle.
They stopped at an empty booth, and Tess slid onto one side, the vinyl cool against her bare legs beneath her sundress. Brian took the seat across from her, settling in with the easy comfort of a man on familiar ground.
She picked up the laminated menu more to occupy her hands than out of necessity. The truth was, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had breakfast out, and the thought of ordering pancakes and coffee with the man she’d had sex with last night felt oddly intimate.
A middle-aged waitress with a pencil stuck behind her ear appeared at their table, pad in hand. “Morning. Good to see you, Brian.”
“Hey, Meg. How’s Pete doing?”
“Oh, you know him. Damn man had a heart attack and was itching to get back to work the next day. If the doctor doesn’t give him the okay soon, I’ll kill Pete myself—you didn’t hear that, Agent Malone,” she added with a friendly wink before turning to Tess. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” The words came out quickly, as if the simple act of ordering might ground her.
Brian nodded. “Make it two.”
“You got it. I’ll grab those while you decide what to order.”
“Thanks, Meg.”
When the waitress left, Tess glanced up and caught Brian watching her. His expression wasn’t unreadable—if anything, it was the opposite. Open. Steady. Like he was cataloging her every little reaction.
“What?” she asked, half smiling, half self-conscious.
“Nothing.” Despite his claim, the corners of his mouth curved upward. “You just look... I don’t know... lighter today.”
Her cheeks warmed. “That’s probably because I don’t have anything on my schedule today.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced, but he let it slide. The look in his eyes said otherwise—he knew exactly why she seemed lighter. The glow in her chest had nothing to do with a free calendar and everything to do with him... and the way he’d made her body sing last night.
The waitress returned with two steaming mugs, and Tess wrapped her hands around hers, grateful for the heat.
Maybe it would stop the goose bumps skittering across her skin.
She took a sip, wincing at the strength before adding two packets of sugar and a splash of cream from the little pitcher on the table.
After they placed their orders, Brian leaned back in his seat, his gaze drifting briefly to the window where sunlight spilled over Main Street. “What do you want to do today? After breakfast, I mean.”
Tess traced a fingertip along the rim of her mug. “Anything that doesn’t involve laundry or errands.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I was thinking we could go to an outdoor market about a mile up Beach Road. There are always lots of vendors with crafts, food, and all sorts of stuff. I haven’t been to it in a while, but I figured it would be fun.”
Her heart skipped. The thought of spending the day with him, no expectations, just the two of them, was more than she’d let herself hope for. “That sounds perfect.”
It wasn’t long before their plates arrived—pancakes dusted with powdered sugar for her, eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast for him—and for a few minutes, the conversation paused as they dug in.
The food was simple but delicious, and Tess realized how long it had been since she’d shared a meal with someone other than her brother, who made her laugh between bites.
Brian picked up a piece of bacon, then looked at her across the table. “You know, I wasn’t sure this morning would be... easy.”
Her fork stilled. “And?”
“And it is,” he said candidly, as though that was explanation enough.
The words settled deep in her chest. He was right. It was exactly what their morning-after interaction resembled—unexpectedly, impossibly easy.
But just as she was beginning to imagine the day unfolding—coffee refills, a walk through the market, and maybe even a late lunch together—Brian’s phone buzzed on the table.
He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening as he read a text message.
“Work?” she guessed.
“Yeah. Another homicide over in the state park.” He set down his fork, already pulling cash from his wallet. “I’ve gotta go.”
Disappointment flickered through her mind—brief but unmistakable—but she masked it with a smile.
She knew his job was demanding, far more than hers.
It was just lousy timing that the one weekend she wasn’t on call, he was.
“Go. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find something to do.
” It was only a few blocks back to the house, so she could easily walk there.
For a moment, his eyes held hers like he was trying to read her mind—to make sure she wasn’t upset. Maybe he’d been with women who couldn’t handle his job coming first, but Tess understood all too well. After all, his homicide cases often ended up on her autopsy table.
Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he nodded, dropping the bills on the table. “Rain check on the market?”
“Definitely.”
“I’ll call you later.” He slid out of the booth, hesitated for half a heartbeat, then leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers—quick, but sure, carrying more heat than he’d probably intended.
When he drew back, a flicker of surprise crossed his face, like the kiss had caught even him off guard.
Then he cleared his throat, gave her a half-smile, and headed for the door.
Tess watched him go, the bell jingling overhead as he disappeared onto the street, leaving behind the faint trace of coffee and aftershave.
Dazed, she sat there, her plate half-finished, and her stomach knotted in a way that had nothing to do with food.
The kiss had been quick, almost impulsive, but it left her warm clear through.
She could still feel the faint press of his lips, the soft scrape of stubble he hadn’t shaved off since yesterday, and the rush of something unexpected that stole her breath before he pulled away.
When the diner came back into focus, she took a sip of her coffee, squared her shoulders, and told herself she wasn’t going to waste a Saturday morning.
After thanking the waitress for the excellent service and food, Tess stepped into the morning sunlight.
It was just about ten a.m., and the outside temperature had already risen into the mid-eighties.
Main Street was alive now with cars edging into angled parking spots and pedestrians in no hurry to get wherever they were going.
Shop doors propped open, and the murmur of conversation spilled from doorways.
The air smelled of yeast, coffee, and salt from the nearby shore.
A light breeze off the ocean carried the faint cry of gulls before it was smothered by the clatter of someone rolling down an awning.
Everything was calm and ordinary, except the way her body reacted to the memory of Brian’s kiss.
With a small shake of her head, she turned toward the row of shops, the taste of him still ghosting her lips.
She walked slowly, letting the rhythm of the town guide her. Normally, Saturdays were for catching up on errands, paying bills, cleaning, and laundry—a familiar pattern of moving from one task to the next. Today felt different. Brighter and carefree, but at the same time... unsettled.
Her thoughts kept circling back to Brian.
The way he’d kissed her in the quiet of the morning after she woke up, not like a man regretting a mistake but like someone who wanted her still.
The way he’d looked at her across the booth at the diner, steady and open, like he wasn’t second-guessing what’d happened between them.
It should have been awkward. She’d expected awkward.
Instead, like he’d said, it had been easy, almost natural, and that scared her more than she wanted to admit.
He hadn’t promised her anything. She knew better than to hope for that. But she couldn’t ignore the way he’d smiled when she said yes to breakfast—or the flicker of something like relief in his eyes, as if he’d needed her to say yes more than he would admit.
Tess paused outside a boutique window, pretending to peruse a display of sunhats, when really she was studying her own reflection. She didn’t look like someone caught in the middle of something that had suddenly become complicated. She looked... happy.
The thought made her chest tighten.
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and started strolling again, letting her feet carry her down the sidewalk.