Chapter 25
Hattie
I woke before Kipp did, and the silence inside the cabin felt heavier than the air outside.
The memory of last night should make me feel scared (or embarrassed), but I couldn’t summon either feeling.
I hadn’t lied to him about it not being the right time of the month, but I was also not going to deny that I was a little freaked out.
There was a small part of me that felt excited, too.
Jane and I had always talked about babies.
We always dreamt of being mothers, and then, when Jane disappeared, that dream (like so many of them) was put on hold.
I’d never found a man since Jane disappeared that I’d consider having a child with, but if it just happened?
I smiled to myself, holding onto that thought.
My period was due in a few days, so I should be safe. I could get a morning-after pill, but maybe…
He was solid next to me, his breaths warm and steady. Each one moved against my skin in slow strokes, radiating safety. Even then, while I was thinking about getting up, it just felt so good that I didn’t want to. Then time stretched so far that it started to feel dangerous.
I eased away from him, careful not to break the fragile stillness. The mattress dipped slightly as I shifted, but he didn’t move, and I wanted to laugh a little. You’d think for a cop, he’d be a little bit of a lighter sleeper. Weren’t they all supposed to have cat-like reflexes?
Fish lifted his head from the rug and tilted his head at me before giving a whine.
After letting him out, I stepped into the bathroom, where the mirror caught me in a way that felt judgmental.
My hair was a tousled mess, my mouth swollen from hours of being kissed, my neck marked by his hands.
Yikes. Still, the sight turned something inside me molten and unsettled, even as I splashed cold water on my face in an attempt to steady myself.
This was not who I was.
Or rather, not who I allowed myself to be.
I traveled constantly for work. I made temporary connections, enjoyed them, and then moved on before anything could become meaningful.
I did not wake up in strange cabins in borrowed T-shirts with a man who looked like a promise I was not built to keep.
Granted, the last man I’d slept with had been some biker in a bar two years ago.
I could count my conquests on one hand, and wrapping up was always mandatory.
This? I wasn’t sure what this was, but I liked it.
The shower helped—a little.
When I stepped back into the bedroom, Kipp was awake.
He was propped up with one arm folded under his head, the sheet low along his hips like a modeling pose, the dusting of hair going from his belly button like an arrow that I wanted to trace with my tongue.
I hadn’t had the opportunity yet, but every part of me wanted to.
He probably made women weep in this town, and he made every particle of me want.
His gaze found me instantly, warm and steady, his mouth curving in a slow, sleepy smile.
“Morning, Trouble,” he said, and the roughness in his voice seemed to touch every place on my skin that still remembered his. “Thanks for letting Fish out.”
“No problem.” Heat gathered at my cheeks, and I tried to pretend it was from the warm air inside the cabin. “You didn’t have to stay,” I told him, though my voice lacked conviction. I very much had wanted him to stay, and I didn’t doubt that he knew it.
He watched me as if he could see the argument forming behind my eyes. “I did,” he said, quiet and sure. “I wasn’t leaving after you asked me to stay. And you told me you had a bad day. And … I wanted to. More than.”
Kipp must have noticed the change in my expression because a flicker of something unreadable crossed his face.
He straightened up, muscles along his arms and chest catching the morning light, the faint scars on his ribs rising and falling as he took a slow breath.
I saw them both times I had him naked. He had some on his back too, but I didn’t ask.
That would be a line of intimacy I wasn’t sure we were ready to cross.
We’d started talking about family stuff yesterday, but we’d just started on the surface.
There was still plenty of time for all the messy stuff.
Gathering my hair into a quick, messy braid, I said, “I need to get to work.” It was safer to focus on tasks and deadlines than on how he made me feel. “I have notes to look over and messages to return. My squad and I have a voice call in an hour, and after that I’m heading to King Creek.”
“The Finch case,” he said, not a question, his eyebrows furrowing so much that a crease formed.
“I’m going to visit her mother if I have time today,” I replied. “And I want to go out to a few places in the reports. Back to the vista area and see if I can get behind it. Look over some of the search areas.”
Kipp slid off the bed and slipped into his jeans, his movements smooth and quiet. “I’ll go with you after your call. Cabin Three is checking out this morning, so that’ll be perfect timing.”
The refusal came out of me so quickly that it surprised us both. “No. I can handle it.”
His gaze did not drop or shift or soften. It simply held steady. “I know you can handle it,” he said. “But that area is isolated.”
“I’m fine on my own.” The stubborn streak in me was a mile wide and just as deep, but that bloom of pleasure couldn’t be stopped. Secretly, I wanted to say yes.
“I know you are.” He sent me a smirk. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful,” he countered. “Those are two different things. I’m useful. You’ll see.”
Something about the way he watched me felt too perceptive, as if he could already see the pieces of my life that I’d tried so hard to hold together after Jane.
I needed to add in some ground rules if he was going to insist. “Fine, but this is not going to turn into anything complicated,” I said, trying to sound firm, but knowing that I was failing miserably by the smirk on his face.
“Last night was fun, but it isn’t going to be anything else. ”
“Alright,” he replied, his tone even. “Sure,” he chuckled easily in a way that irked me already.
“Understood.” He gave me a solemn nod that seemed very unserious.
He gave Fish a nod, too. “Right, Fish? Fish agrees too.” His mouth curved at the corner.
“I will give you nothing but clarity.” Fish made a slight huffing sound, which felt too close to agreement. Kipp reached for his boots.
I stared at him. “Just because you are with OSP doesn’t make this your case.”
“Nope,” he said. “It’s not. But, I know how to keep you safe without getting in your way.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then realized he had just described exactly what I needed, which made this entire situation even more complicated. And if he had details I didn’t know about, then I definitely needed to hear them. Maybe he knew more about Galloway or some of the volunteers.
“I do not need a partner.” Somehow, being a brat was second nature around Kipp whenever the topic of my job came up.
“Yes,” he said, “you do.” He waited without pushing, his expression open and steady, which was the exact version of him I was most vulnerable to. He strapped on his holster, which was unbelievably hot. Damn. “But that isn’t what I am. I’ll just be riding along.”
I took a long, slow breath. “Fine. But this stays professional.”
“Sure. Professional,” he repeated with a nod, but I could tell that neither of us meant it. He definitely didn’t with the hot looks he was sending my way, making my nipples tighten. Thank God for padded bras.
“And temporary.” The words were out before I could call them back. I didn’t really mean them. The last thing I wanted was temporary with him.
“As temporary as you want it to be,” he agreed, although something in his eyes made me suspect he already understood just how impossible those rules were going to be for both of us.
“I’ll see you in a little bit after your meeting.
” He tugged me close for a kiss. “I don’t regret anything that happened last night, just so you know. That was just to seal the deal.”
He gave me a smile before he was out the door, leaving me frowning after him with my fingers touching my mouth. Huh. It was going to be hard to keep my heart in check.