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Chapter Twenty-six
Earlier, Blake’s heart pounding, pitching battles inside his chest, he’d floored it to the address that Kayla had shared, the siren screaming all the way. He’d broken every road rule and had arrived even before the back-up.
Once he’d seen the three girls standing outside the dump-like house, and they appeared fine, the dryness in his mouth became flooded with an abundance of saliva. For a few seconds, he thought he’d lose his lunch.
Charli stood beside the other two; ramrod straight, her soft blonde curls haloing her head. Tight black pants sculpted her perfect ass, her long legs tucked inside fitted black boots. Paired with a snug white shirt, a cover emphasizing perky breasts he’d dreamed of too often lately, he unclenched the wheel.
Damn, that woman has me wound so tight, I can’t think straight.
Leaving his vehicle in the middle of the road, he’d quickly approached Kayla who stepped forward, her eyes warning even while her lips explained.
Listening, he searched the area, and when he felt he’d hidden his angst enough to approach a now cranky Charli, Angie’s words had painted a picture he’d have given his next paycheck to have seen. Charli laying a beating on a deserving fat asshole and winning, well… how straight-up fucking awesome.
He relished the word-picture, until he looked at Charli’s face and saw the reaction to Angie’s words.
Hugging her hadn’t been planned, just an instinct he couldn’t fight. He didn’t know anyone who needed his arms around them more than the shaking mess in front of him. Aha! She wasn’t Superwoman after all. The fight had taken its toll.
Nope.
While he’d forced her close, her whispered warning stirred his memory.
Stress!The report he’d poured over yet again the night before came back with a vengeance. The Bureau’s psychologist strongly advised that Charli be given a period of timeout – meaning personal leave to get her head straight.
In dire need to recoup from an earlier extended case, one where she’d handled crushing tension, constant peril, and in the end, a battle where many died, the doctor hadn’t minimized his diagnosis. Charli needed to rest, take a vacation. No working for the foreseeable future. And… under no circumstances, have any undue stress in her life.
***
Hours later, Blake appeared at their dinner table and made his announcement. “I’ll be moving back home tonight.”
Angie and Kayla grinned and voiced their support. “Sweet!”
Charli reacted somewhat differently. Her chair skidded before it flipped over. Her face lost its color, and her voice rose just slightly lower than a full-out scream.
“What?”
Inside he flinched but forced an outer calm. Taking on the boss-like tone he used to run a police department full of hot-heads, he added, “There’s no argument you can say to make me change my mind, I’ll be around a lot more, so suck it up, sweetheart.”
