Chapter 16 #2
My plan to camp out and keep watch just got a lot more complicated.
I forced my gaze away from the bed and focused on Kayden. “Let’s take a look at that bullet wound. Sit.”
He dropped into one of the chairs at the table, still grinning, and I set the first aid kit down with more force than necessary.
I pulled out antiseptic, gauze, and bandages, then leaned in to inspect the wound. “Jesus, Kayden. Why didn’t you tell me this was so bad?”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. You might need stitches.” The bullet had grazed him, tearing an angry groove through his flesh that must hurt like hell. Thankfully, it wasn’t deep, but it was raw and still bleeding.
“You sure you don’t want a doctor? Or hospital?”
“You’re here now.” He shrugged his good shoulder. “Besides, I’ve had worse.”
“Big tough man, huh?” Just like I remembered him riding those bucking bulls at the rodeo all those years ago.
I could still see him—one hand in the air, the other gripping the rope, grinning like he could conquer the world.
That reckless grin hadn’t changed one bit.
I hated how I could still feel the fear I’d had for him back then.
I snapped on gloves. “This is going to hurt.”
“I can handle it.”
I dabbed at the wound with gauze soaked in antiseptic, and he hissed through his teeth.
“Told you,” I said.
“You’re enjoying this.”
I’m enjoying seeing you without your shirt on. Damn it. I cleared my throat. “A little.”
His laugh was low and rough, and sounded just like I’d remembered, though his voice was much deeper than it had been ten years ago.
As my mind whirled with too many memories of our steamy nights together, I used cotton wool to catch the blood trickling down his bicep.
I clenched my jaw, working in silence, forcing myself to focus.
Cleaning the wound. Applying ointment. Trying to ignore how close I was to him.
How warm his skin felt under my fingers.
How his breathing had slowed and deepened.
“That’s going to leave a scar,” I said, wrapping the bandage around his arm.
“Good. Maybe it’ll impress my grandkids one day.” His tone was becoming way too intimate for my liking.
I found his gaze on mine—dark, steady, too damn intense.
“Or it’ll scare them,” I said, tying off the bandage.
“That, too.”
I stepped back, putting distance between us, and started packing up the first aid kit.
Silence stretched between us, thick and awkward.
I’d planned to sleep on his sofa to keep watch and make sure he didn’t take off without me, but there was no sofa, just that massive bed in the corner that I absolutely was not getting into. But I had to stay, to make sure he didn’t abandon me in the morning.
“I don’t trust you,” I blurted.
He frowned. “What?”
“I don’t trust you not to take off in the chopper without me.”
His expression shifted from surprise to unmistakable hurt. He reached for my hand.
I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve maintained the professional distance I’d been clinging to all night.
But I didn’t.
His fingers wrapped around mine, warm and calloused, and his eyes locked on me the way they used to. The way that made everything else disappear.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice rough. “I was wrong to choose my siblings over you. I should’ve told you everything from the start.” He paused, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. “You don’t have to forgive me, Sapphire. But I need you to believe I’ll never lie to you again.”
My throat tightened.
This was too much. I had a case to solve, two killers to catch, and a career that might be on the line. I didn’t have room for whatever the hell this was becoming.
Keep it professional.
I slipped my hand free. “Look, I don’t know what to believe anymore. So much happened today that my brain feels like a live grenade ready to go off. I just need a good night’s sleep, and I can’t do that if I’m lying awake, worrying you’ll sneak off to that cave without me.”
He nodded, and the sadness that washed over his face nearly crushed me. “You have my word I won’t.”
“Good.” I shifted my weight. “But just to be sure, I’ll sleep on the floor or something.”
His jaw tightened, and frustration flashed in his eyes. “You’re not sleeping on the damn floor, Sapphire.” His voice left no room for argument. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep over there.”
Before I could protest, he crossed to the bed, grabbed a pillow, and stalked to the far corner. He dropped the pillow onto a narrow bench-seat built into the wall that I hadn’t even noticed, barely more than a wooden plank with a thin cushion.
He lay on his back and punched the pillow into shape a few times.
All six-foot-five of him was crammed into a space clearly not meant for sleeping, and definitely not meant for a man his size.
His knees were bent at an awkward angle, his feet hung off the end, and one arm was draped over the armrest like he was trying to convince himself he was comfortable.
“Kayden, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“Discussion’s over,” he said, closing his eyes. “Turn out the light.”
I stood there, first aid kit still in hand, staring at him.
This was a terrible idea.
All of it.
But I was too exhausted to fight anymore.
I left the first aid kit on the table, found the light switch, and flicked it off. Silvery moonlight filtered through the three windows, and after a few seconds, my eyes adjusted enough to see Kayden’s silhouette against the far wall.
I crossed to the bed, dropped my backpack on the floor beside it, and pulled off my shoes and socks. The mattress dipped as I climbed in, and the sheets smelled like whatever soap he used—and him.
Everything in this space smelled like him.
I rolled onto my side, facing away so I couldn’t see him, and squeezed my eyes shut.
Don’t think about how good he smells.
Don’t think about the fact that Kayden Branson is ten feet away, cramped on a bench seat, and stubborn as hell.
Don’t think about the fact that, tomorrow, everything could go sideways.
Or that I still didn’t know if I believed him.
A sharp inhale cut through the silence.
I opened my eyes, rolled over, and could just make out his shape in the moonlight. He was lying on his uninjured arm and obviously trying to find a position that didn’t annoy his wound. Even in the dimness, I could see the rigid tension in his shoulders.
He winced again.
Damn it.
“Kayden.”
“Yeah.” He moved again and released a hiss of pain through his teeth.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, shifting again, and the wood beneath him creaked.
“You’re not fine. You’re wounded and crammed into a space half your size.”
“I’ll manage.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block him out, but the scent of him on the sheets seemed to get more potent, drawing my attention to his groans even more.
I snapped my eyes open and stared at the rough timber beams above me. This was stupid. He was in pain because my fucking boss had shot him. And now, he was uncomfortable because I didn’t trust him to take me with him tomorrow.
Frustration bubbled through me. Damn it. “You said I could trust you, right?”
He sucked air through his teeth. “That’s right.”
I swallowed hard. “Then get in your own bed. But … just ... stay on your side.”
Silence filled the loft, and for a moment, I thought he might refuse or stay on that bench out of some misguided sense of chivalry or punishment.
Then the bench groaned as he sat up. “You sure?”
“Just get in here before I change my mind.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The floorboards creaked as he crossed the room. “Man, that badge has made you bossy.”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The mattress dipped as he climbed in, and I had to bite back a laugh when he settled so close to the edge it was a wonder he didn’t fall off. The sheet shifted, the air warmed, and suddenly, the bed felt a whole lot smaller than it had thirty seconds ago.
I kept my gaze fixed on the ceiling beams.
This is fine.
Totally fine.
We lay there in the darkness, both of us rigid, both pretending this wasn’t the most charged moment we’d had all day.
“Sapphire?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t trust my voice not to betray how fast my heart was hammering.
Instead, I closed my eyes and told myself I was just being practical.
That’s all this was.
Practical.
“You’re a great cop, Sapphire,” he said quietly.
Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. “Thanks.” I huffed. “But if I were, I would’ve figured out Bob was a criminal before today.”
Silence settled between us. There was just the sound of his breathing, shallow and measured, like he was trying not to move closer.
“You’re not being fair on yourself,” he said finally. “Bob fooled a lot of people for a long time. That’s what makes him dangerous.”
I didn’t respond because the truth sat like a stone in my chest. The warmth beneath the sheet seemed to intensify. I was hyperaware of everything, every breath Kayden took, every tiny shift of his weight. The space between us hummed with an energy that was wrong, and yet so, so right.
He sucked air through his teeth as he rolled carefully onto his back. “You know, I never did ask you why you wanted to be a cop.”
Shit. My chest tightened.
That was the question I’d never wanted to answer. I’d spent years dodging the truth behind that question with vague lines about serving the community or making a difference. Generic answers that satisfied most people and kept them from digging deeper.
But lying here in the dark with Kayden Branson ten inches away made deflection feel impossible, especially as I’d just made him promise to be honest with me.
His family had revealed secrets tonight that had to have been damn hard to tell.
Hell, they’d admitted their father had cheated on their mother. That wasn’t easy stuff to share.
Mine wasn’t either.
But here, in Kayden’s bed, with the warmth of his body only inches away, I wanted to tell him the truth.