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Oh.
Oh.
Now I feel like a complete idiot. I also feel like a bitch too because I know Kaden would die of happiness to get to hang out with those two and I’m preventing him from his fun because I agreed to a stupid date with Oliver.
“The, uh, date is not until seven,” I rush out. “If we went in the morning for a few hours, maybe that would be okay. I think Kaden would like that.”
I would really like that.
“Fine. Me and Gem will pick you two up at nine. Dress appropriately. Leave the cop outfit at home. I’ll bring all the stuff we’ll need.”
I smirk at his bossiness. “Have you ever even hiked before? We’re not all about to get ourselves eaten by a bear or something, are we?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Sloane, but I’m looking forward to showing you more.”
Again with the stupid butterflies.
This is bad news.
He’s bad news for me.
Tap.
Scrape.
Tap-Tap.
I jolt upright in bed, blinking away the dregs of sleep, confused as to whether the sound was in my dream or in real life.
Tap.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I reach over to mash in the code for my bedside gun safe. Once I’ve removed my Glock, put a round in the chamber, and flipped the safety, I slip out of bed and creep over to the window.
Tap.
I freeze mid-step and squint my eyes. I can barely make out a shadowed form standing on the other side of the window beyond my curtains.
What sort of intruder announces their presence?
Now that I’m not half asleep, I realize they wouldn’t. I push aside the curtain to reveal my nighttime stalker.
Dempsey Park’s teeth flash brilliantly in the dim moonlight. I eject the bullet from the chamber and then set both the bullet and the Glock on my dresser before opening the window. It’s warm this evening but breezy. I can smell pine mixed with something spicy and pure male.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss as soon as I’ve lifted the window. “Most people knock on the door like a normal person. I almost shot you.”
He laughs softly, unperturbed by my admonishment. I step out of his way and then switch on my bedside lamp. By the time I turn back around, he’s standing in my bedroom, sharp gaze pinning me in place.
Maybe I should have thrown on more clothes.
A T-shirt and a skimpy pair of shorts are hardly visitor appropriate.
Dempsey bites down on the inside corner of his bottom lip, his icy blue eyes raking down my bare legs. By the time his stare is back on mine, I’m feeling flushed and way out of my depth.
“Answer the question,” I demand, instilling my harshest cop tone. “Is my nephew okay?”
Why else would he show up at my house in the middle of the night?
He nods before sauntering over to my bed. I watch him sit, ignoring the prickling sensation that washes over me. There hasn’t been a man in my bed, well, ever. And now I have Dempsey in it. Great.
