Page 6 of Stalked By the Officer

"Is that a standard part of the service? Personal bodyguard included?" Her words are cheeky, but her body leans into mine just a fraction. That tiny movement might as well be a shout for how loud my heart hears it.

"Depends on the risk assessment," I tease, allowing my hand to linger. "And right now, I'd say you're high risk."

"Am I?" She arches an eyebrow, playful yet daring me to admit the obvious. "In what way?"

"In every way that matters." The look we share is heavy, loaded with unspoken words and wishes. I can feel the heat coming off her in waves, mixing with the cool night air. It's a cocktail made for trouble, and I'm already drunk on her.

I clear my throat. “Well, I’ll have a look around. See if I see anyone.”

I feel like an ass. I know damn well I’m not going to find anyone cause I’m the one watching her.

Still, I go through the motions. I scan the shrub-lined perimeter, flashlight in hand—the beam slicing through the night like a sword.

"Find anything suspicious yet, Officer McLean?" Lori’s voice is soft and slightly vulnerable, and it slices through me.

I swallow—hard. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Must be tough," she says quietly, "always having to be the protector, huh?"

My chest tightens at her perceptiveness. She sees right through me, through the badge and the duty. Her gaze holds mine, and it's clear she's reading every conflicting emotion etched onto my face.

"Part of the job," I manage to say, though it feels like a confession. "But sometimes, it's hard to turn off...even when I want to."

"Even with me?" The moonlight catches the green in her eyes, making them shimmer with curiosity.

"Especially with you," I admit, the words escaping before I can cage them.

A silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words and the hum of attraction I'm trying desperately to ignore. My mind races with the professional boundaries I'm toeing, the lines I'm inching closer to crossing.

"Can I tell you something?" Lori asks, tucking a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear. "Something personal?"

"Always." The word slips out smoother than I expect, and I'm anchored to the spot by the trust she's tentatively offering.

"Back at the foster homes, there were always people who...looked at me the way I felt someone watching tonight. It made my skin crawl. I learned to trust my instincts, to stay safe." Her voice is steady, but there's a tremor of past fears that doesn't escape me.

"Your instincts are good," I reassure her, my own voice barely above a whisper. "You're safe with me, Lori. I promise you that."

"Thank you, Officer McLean."

“Doug,” I tell her, dying to hear her say my name.

“Doug,” she says softly, and my god, the way she says my name, it's like a caress, and I clench my fists to keep from reaching for her. "It's just been hard to shake the feeling."

"Then we'll shake it together," I vow, the weight of my desire battling against the shield I wear. "No one gets to make you feel that way again. Not on my watch."

Her smile is hesitant, but it carves deep into me.

For a moment, we're frozen, lost in each other's eyes. And then Lori’s hand, soft and warm, finds mine, fingers intertwining with a tentative trust.

My breath hitches, and fire floods my entire being.

My radio crackles to life, a reminder of the world beyond our bubble. "McLean, do you copy?"

At first, I don’t move, my thumb caressing the back of Lori’s hand. Fuck, I can’t bear to let go, but duty calls, and with a reluctant sigh, I release her hand and reach for the radio. "This is McLean. Go ahead."

"Disturbance reported at 5th and Main. Need you there, stat."

"Copy that. On my way." My voice is all business, but my eyes linger on Lori who’s looking up at me with those big green eyes.

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