“I-uh. Yes, please.” Somehow she got the words out while trying not let on how much his closeness affected her.
Whatever was growing between her and Dalton, it wasn’t freaking her out, and she didn’t understand why.
After everything she’d gone through, she believed she would never feel anything like desire, want, or need again. She believed it had been taken away from her the first night when two men shoved her into that dark room and took privileges they had no right taking.
Yet here she was, her body coming alive, and she wasn’t consumed with fear.
“Are you okay? Do you need some space? I can take you out of here?” Dalton fired the questions at her.
Why was she not surprised that he’d picked up on her confusion?
This was the reason why she had no fear being around him. Daltonsawher. Not as a victim, but as a woman. Someone he wanted to spend time with.
It would be totally the wrong thing to do, to grab him and haul him close so that she could kiss him, but that was what she wanted to do.
“With you, I’m good.” She hoped he understood what she was saying without saying it in front of his work colleagues.
A slow smile curved his lips until his eyes brightened, and the worry disappeared.
He got it.
He understood.
“Me too,” he responded, and a lightness filled her.
“About that drink,” she said after seconds of them gazing at each other and ignoring everything else going on around them.
“What would you like? We have nearly everything here.”
“Sparkling water?” she queried.
“Coming right up.” And in front of everyone, Dalton kissed her on the lips. The kiss was short, but meaningful.
“Right.” Ox cleared his throat, and heat stole into her cheeks. She knew, without having to look into a mirror, they would be pink.
She ducked her head, willing her embarrassment to go away, but she also embraced it, because this was another step to reclaiming her life. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“Hey, we’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” Dalton touched her shoulder. “You should see what this lot do with their wives.” He waved a hand around the room.
Everyone chuckled, and Steff felt a little better. There was definitely a camaraderie amongst the group where they were all happy to tease each other, but also be true to themselves and not ashamed to show affection to those they cared about.
“How about we get back to the issue at hand,” Ox suggested, and the lightheartedness disappeared.
Dalton returned with her glass of water, and she grabbed it, taking a long sip. The bubbles danced on her tongue.
Cass and the others returned to the room, and from their grim expressions, she didn’t need to be told that they hadn’t found anything. “You didn’t have any luck, did you?” she asked, hoping that her assumption had been wrong.
“It’s clear whoever wrote this used gloves. I picked up fine trace elements of the powder that is used in some latex gloves.” Cass sat where she’d been before.
“What about the box? We should’ve got you to take that at the same time,” Dalton queried from his position behind her.
“Unlikely we’ll get anything substantial, even with the isolation we can do, but I’ll definitely run it after.”
“Anything with regards to the delivery guy?” Deal asked.
“Not yet, I wanted to work a bit longer on it, see if I can make the image crisper before I start putting it through all the databases I can access,” Cass answered. “Do you recognize him, Isaac?”
“He doesn’t look familiar. Sorry.” He almost looked upset that he hadn’t been able to figure it out for them. “But if you can show me after you’ve worked your magic, I’ll see if I recognize him.”
