Page 64 of The Deadly Shallows

She blinked and nodded. “I . . .” Words failed her. She cleared her throat, finding her voice—at least a whisper of it. “Did you want anything?” She held out the water bottle, but instead of taking it, he rested his hand over hers.

She tilted her head. “What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve longed to do since the day we met.” Reaching up, he cupped her face, his fingers warm and caressing.

She swallowed, unable to move.

He lowered his warm lips to hers.

Her dizzying head struggled to determine where one kiss began and another ended.

Her office door creaked open, jarring both of them.

Caleb pulled back. His hand fixed his gun’s grip. “Can I help you?”

Austin’s gaze met that of Ian—the sixteen-year-old son of DeNucci’s Pizza Parlor’s owner.

“L-lunch?” Ian’s voice cracked at Caleb’s approach. He held up the plastic bag in one hand, the two-liter of Coke resting in the crook of his other arm. “Sorry. Miss Kelly says never to worry about knocking. I didn’t mean to . . .”

“All good,” Caleb said, pulling out his wallet and handing Ian what looked like a ten from her vantage point. “Thanks.”

Her hand free, she untwisted the cap on her water bottle and took a swig, trying to settle her rapidly beating heart.

He turned. “You hungry?”

She didn’t want the kissing to end, but she really needed to clear her head. “Yeah.” She nodded, hoping lunch would give her time to get her thoughts straight.

“Over there?” Caleb asked, indicating her round conference table, with four straight-back chairs encircling it.

She nodded. How could he seem so calm? Her insides were a fluttery mess.

He unpacked the bag, the scents of peppers, onions, and spicy spread mixed in the air. DeNucci’s made the best Italian cheesesteaks.

She looked to the cup of pens in the center of the table, heat rushing her cheeks afresh.

She chewed on the ends of her pens whenever she paused while writing. It was a terrible habit she’d had since Mrs. Kendrick’s first-grade math class. A nervous habit she couldn’t seem to shake. She looked back at the cup full of chewed pen ends, and Caleb followed her gaze. The heat deepened in her cheeks. She must look like a beet. She always tucked the cup away before anyone entered her office, replacing it with one of the solid pens on the shelf to her right. But this visit had been unexpected. Just as the dizzying kiss had been.

She opened the foil around her sub, the peppery scent swirling in the air.

Caleb left his sub unopened. Instead, he picked up one of her pens and twirled it in his fingers.

Great. He knew she had a nervous habit.

This from a man who didn’t have a single discernible one. In fact, the man never seemed nervous at all. She’d never met anyone steadier, but there had to be a reason he guarded his emotions so tightly.

Come to think of it, she’d rarely seen him laugh. Though he’d been smiling quite a bit more lately. Did that kiss mean she was the reason, or was that just wishful thinking?

Brooke woke after yet another restless nap that had lasted under twenty minutes. Noah wished he could calm her with his presence. At times it seemed he did, but the nightmares still plagued her. It was expected, given what had happened—one tragedy rapidly after another. He’d give anything for the haunting memories to stop. But it would take time.

“Sweet Home Alabama” played, and he retrieved his cell and walked to the door but didn’t move into the hall. Mason again. Maybe he’d found the second man. “Hey, Mason, what ya got?”

Mason exhaled on the other end of the line.

Never a good start.

“I’m almost positive we found the place they held her.”

Pain coiled his muscles. “Where?”