“Then I’m sure you won’t mind my telling him.”
“New rule. Not at work. Not during the case. We save our games for social events only.”
I smirk. She rarely plays her hand, but she must think very little of me if she thinks I’d mess up her career. It irritates me, like a mosquito bite that endlessly itches no matter how many times you scratch it. I like our game; it’s fun, and seeing her riled up certainly gets my blood pumping, but when did it ever get this bad? Well. If she thinks I’m an asshole, I might as well lean into it.
“What’s it worth to you?”
The elevator is rising, and we’re close to the top floor now. She doesn’t have a lot of time to negotiate. She swallows hard, her eyes dippingdown to my uniform once again. I look down, expecting to see breakfast on it or something, but there’s nothing. A blush flushes up her neck as she faces forward.
Surely not . . .
She likes my uniform.
“How about I get the spare bedroom at Lottie’s for the next three months? And,” I add, holding up a finger as she grimaces, “because I’m nice, I won’t even make you sleep in the cot. You can nestle right into me just like on Saturday, princess.”
She huffs, the doors sliding open, Detective Biceps waiting for us. Well...her.
“Dr. Murphy?” I sing.
She bows her head, stalking out of the elevator. “Deal.”
Chapter Three
Katie
“You good, Doc?” Detective Williams asks me.
“Peachy.”
I’m anything butpeachy. My hands are clammy, shaking at my sides. My mouth is drier than a flip-flop in the desert.I’m rattled. All because of the man who is treading purposefully behind me in a uniform that looks far too good on him, considering the sight of him usually makes my stomach queasy. Being trapped in an elevator with his manly scent, the same minty freshness that I woke up to yesterday morning, has my head spinning.
We head to the end of the long corridor on the top floor of Seattle’s police headquarters. Chief Margaret Tanner, known as Chief to her face and Hide behind her back because she has a habit of making you feel like she’stanned your hideafter one of her rage outbursts. She is a good chief, and I’ve yet to be on the receiving end of one of her disciplinaries. But then, given that I’ma contractor, perhaps I’m exempt.
My job is to be Switzerland. Neutral on all counts. I assess the accused, determine their mental state, interview friends and family members, visit crime scenes—the list goes on. All in an attempt to get a clear-cut picture of who this person is and whether they committed the crime they’re accused of. Some cases are easier than others; some...well, let’s just say some take a little more energy. I have a feeling that this case is going to be the latter, especially given that Jacob Jones, in his goddamn uniform, is hot on my heels right now.
I can practically feel his breath on my neck; he’s so close. I swallow hard, desperately trying not to think about Saturday night and how it felt to have him curled up against me in Lottie’s guest bedroom. We have never crossed that line before, except for one regrettable kiss in college that we absolutely do not talk about. I should have tried harder to kick him out of the bed on Saturday, but with each step toward the chief’s office, I promise myself that it will not happen again. Even if it means sleeping on that god-awful cot for the next three months. There will be no more cuddling. Ever.
I indicate for Jonesy to go through the doorway to the chief’s office, and I follow. There are no seats left, so I perch on the back wall next to Officer Sanchez. Detective Williams stands beside me, his knee bent as the sole of his footbraces his weight against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
He’s upset. Unhappy with the situation unfolding. I can’t say I’m thrilled that Jonesy and his bosses are here either, but police officers have this real tendency to lift their back leg and piss on something they think inherently belongs to them.
Unfortunately for me, I have a feeling that in choosing to stand next to me rather than Officer Sanchez, Detective Williams is now pissing a circle around me. His scowl, currently aimed at Jonesy, would be comical if I weren’t harboring some uncertain feelings toward the detective. We get along fine at crime scenes; a case we worked on last year involving the serial killer dubbedThe Poserby the media had brought us closer together.
It had been a year since the case wrapped up, but we still saw each other for coffee and the occasional dinner. It doesn’t hurt that he is utterly gorgeous. Strong, capable, understanding—a man with an astonishing amount of patience. And as Jonesy pointed out, his biceps could crush a melon. I know the detective wants to progress our relationship, but for a variety of reasons, I’ve been reluctant to commit.
After everything that went down withThe Poserserial killer, real name Thomas Vale, I have been struggling with a few things. Mostly on how to be intimate with others. Sexually, to beclear. My friendships are still alive and well, and I have a great relationship with my family. But being in the presence of someone so evil has changed me. I don’t know howto beanymore. I always knew who I was. Always knew what I wanted to do with my life.
I dated, I fucked around, I had fun. But now, it’s like I freeze every time. I can’t speak to anyone I know about this; they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand the dark depths that Thomas Vale took me to, that I can’t seem to climb out of.
I shake Thomas Vale from my mind. We have a new case, and I need to be on my A game if I’m going to handle Jonesy.
“I hear you and Dr. Jones are acquainted,” the chief states, bringing the rest of the room up to speed. I see a small smile pull at Jonesy’s lips from the corner of my eye.
“Yes, Chief. From Elwood. We studied together.”
I wish I hadn’t worn such high heels. They are killing my feet already as I shift my weight from foot to foot.
I feel the detective stiffen next to me. He’s waiting for me to elaborate, but I don't. There’s no reason for anyone in this room to know the history between us. Jonesy and I are sort of friends. As much as I love to bust his balls, we’ve known each other for a long time. He’s been a thorn in my side since he left to go overseas withthe army as part of his thesis. That was...eight years ago? Around then, anyway. We were completing our PhDs, I’d had a crush on him since we first met, andbam, finally, one night at a party, we kissed. He ran off. I didn’t hear from him for a year whilst he was away. No letters, no phone calls, no emails. Nothing.
