Page 52 of Wag More Bark Less

“Are you hurt?”

She looked up at me, those blue eyes searching mine for answers I wanted to give but didn’t know how.

“I’m okay, Luke.” She glanced down, then back up at me. “Just need to tie my shoe, apparently.”

She wriggled free of my vice grip and knelt to loop the laces. My pulse was still a fucking mess.

“I wasn’t here when my mom was killed.” I sucked in a deep inhale, still shocked the words had found their way out.

Maggie stood slowly, locking her gaze with mine, but not speaking.

“I wasn’t there, and . . .”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Maggie gently wrapped a hand around my forearm. Even through the cotton of my sleeve, her touch was fire.

I stared at her hand for several beats.

“A drunk driver going a hundred and ten hit her on her way home from a book convention. She died on impact. I wasn’t here. I was already back at Bragg.” I cleared my throat, focused on her thumb gently caressing the crook of my elbow. I could stop, and she wouldn’t press me. I knew that. And yet, I wanted to tell her. I had to tell. “After that happened, I decided not to reenlist. The former police chief was retiring, and the mayor offered me the position. I separated from the military and moved home a couple months later. I vowed never to let another person I cared about get hurt. Not on my watch.”

“Dammit,” Maggie murmured, shaking her head.

I quirked an eyebrow at her, confused how my confession had elicited that as a response. It didn’t make sense, and yet, it was so completely Maggie.

“I didn’t want to like you, you know.” Her gaze lifted to mine, that floral scent surrounding me like some intoxicating cloud I wanted to live inside permanently. “But you’re making it awfully hard not to.”

I snaked a hand up the side of her neck, cradling her cheek in my palm as my sight locked on her mouth.

Don’t do it.

Maggie’s tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip.

Don’t fucking do it.

Her fingers dug into my arm, squeezing, and the last of my willpower to resist her evaporated.

Fuck it, I’m doing it.

I dragged her mouth to mine, meeting her halfway. The kiss wasn’t careful or polite. It was days of frustration finally detonating. I spun us around, pushing Maggie up against the wall as one hand tangled in her hair. She opened her mouth eagerly against the insistence of my tongue and arched into me as the kiss deepened. She tasted of chocolate, cinnamon, and a hint of toasted marshmallow.

I officially had a new favorite ice cream flavor.

The gentle scrape of nails grazed my skin as she slid both hands up the back of my neck and into my hair, leaving a trail of heat in the wake of her touch. Our lips moved in a hungry frenzy that ignited every cell in my body. Fuck, I was never going to be the same after this.

I reached a hand inside the flannel jacket she still wore, and she moaned softly as I grazed bare skin right above her hip.

Just as my fingertips dipped beneath the hem of her shirt, I heard the crunch of gravel before I saw headlights. I shot off of Maggie like lightning struck us apart.

“What—”

Two seconds later, a Bluebell Springs patrol car appeared beside us, exiting the alley. Officer Brianna Hudson stopped, rolling down her window.

“Chief, what are you doing out—” She caught sight of Maggie, and a subtle smirk crooked one corner of her mouth. “Never mind. Carry on.” She nodded at Maggie. “Ma’am.”

“Hudson, wait,” I called before she pulled forward.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“Can you give us a ride?”