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There had been no other reports of break-ins or burglaries in town, and I couldn’t get Sheffield’s words out of my head. She was right. What had happened to Lyric’s house had felt personal. We’d had her walk through two days later to see if anything was missing, but as I’d suspected, there wasn’t. Whoever broke in had been dead set on destruction. That didn’t fit the MO of a thief.
Aside from the obvious question: who, the one that was bothering me the most was why. Why Lyric? Why did this person have so much deep-seated rage toward her?
The longer those questions went without answers, the more anxious I grew. The fear that I wouldn’t be able to keep Lyric safe was quickly becoming overwhelming. And as if that weren’t enough, the woman seemed to be going out of her goddamn way to avoid me at every turn, which was driving me crazy. Having her under the same roof, smelling her sweet floral scent in every room of my house, and hearing that melodic voice had me in a constant state of arousal. My dick had spent more of this past week hard than not, and I wasn’t sure how many more times I could jerk it to the image of Lyric on the backs of my eyelids before something snapped.
Seeing her in my kitchen or curled up on my couch with a romance book in hand just felt... right. I wanted to walk up behind her as she was getting a glass of water and wrap my arms around her waist. I wanted to sit on the other end of the couch and pull her feet into my lap so I could rub them after a long day. Christ, I just wanted to touch her, and the desire was getting worse. Meanwhile, she was treating me like a fucking leper. If I walked into said kitchen or living room, it took less than five seconds for her to find some excuse to leave. I was starting to hate that goddamn door to her room, and I would have been lying if I said I hadn’t seriously considered taking it off the hinges more than once so she couldn’t escape.
Churro’s yap pulled me out of my melancholy. I turned to look in the back seat, ordering, “Stay” before throwing my door open and heading into the library.
The chimes overhead sounded musical as I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was Lyric standing behind the help desk. She had an office, but from what I’d observed, she seemed to like being out where everyone else was, in the thick of things so she didn’t miss anything.
Her head was down, an opened binder on the counter in front of her. She’d twisted all those long, silky curls of hers into some sort of bun that was being held in place with a pencil, giving me an unobstructed view of her delicate neck and profile. I took a beat to study her, feeling the pressure in my chest that was growing more pronounced every damn day.
Christ, she really was beautiful.
Her forehead creased with deep thought as she brought up the highlighter she’d been dragging along the page and chewed on the end as she studied whatever was on the page. I could have stood there staring at her all damn day, but I felt other sets of eyes on me, forcing me to keep moving or risk looking like a creeper.
The women who worked with Lyric were gathered around the help desk in a small cluster, just like they had been every other evening for the past week. I wasn’t sure what the hell they did to help her out; it seemed like all they did was huddle around the counter, gossiping.
I tilted my chin and greeted, “Ladies,” ignoring the keen smiles and knowing looks the three of them were shooting my way.
She’d been so deep in thought that Lyric’s body gave a jolt at the sound of my voice. When those eyes came up and landed on me, I felt it in my chest... as well as my dick. The woman was driving me insane.
The surprise on her face cleared in the blink of an eye, and I could see those shutters of hers falling right back into place. My back molars ground together, and I had to shove my hands into my pockets to keep from clenching them into fists.
It was a struggle, but I managed to keep my expression neutral as we stared at each other. “Hey. You about ready to go or you need some more time?”
“Oh, um...” She seemed flustered for a moment before shaking her head as if to clear it. “No. Thanks. I can finish this tomorrow. Just give me a minute to get my stuff.”
She turned, carrying the binder into her office, and immerged a few seconds later, hoisting the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Beck, you good to close everything?”
The woman in question threw a salute Lyric’s way, making her laugh. That throbbing in my skull grew worse at the sound of it, mainly because, no matter how hard I’d tried over the past week, I couldn’t seem to make her laugh, or hell, even drag a smile out of the woman if my life depended on it. She was determined to keep me at arm’s length, and it was my own goddamn fault.
I didn’t have any right being pissed; I just couldn’t seem to help myself.
“Goodnight, guys. See you tomorrow,” she said to her team.
“You ladies have a good evening,” I offered as Lyric rounded the counter in my direction. The moment she was close enough, I lifted a hand and placed it against the small of her back.
She tried to hide it, but I could feel the tiny shiver her body emitted at my touch, and that reaction was nearly enough to make me crow. At least she wasn’t totally immune to me.
Like she did every evening and every morning, she climbed into the passenger seat, and before buckling up, spun around to greet Churro. And of course, the dog got a much warmer greeting than I did.
“How was your day?” I asked once we were both buckled into our seats and the truck was shifted into drive.
“It was...” She blew out a heavy sigh. “It was fine, I guess.”
My eyes darted her way for a few beats before returning to the road, but that was enough time to see her face was pinched and her shoulders were tense. Well, more tense than usual. “You don’t sound very convincing. Did something happen?”
She reached up with one hand, gently massaging the center of her forehead. “Do you know a Janine Gates?”
Ah, hell. I knew the woman all right, most people in town did, and it was never for anything good. “Yeah. I know her. Every person in the department knows her. Since I’ve been there, the woman’s made at least a dozen bullshit calls to 911 to report something she considers criminal but definitely isn’t. She’s a goddamn nuisance.” My head jerked in her direction. “Is she giving you a hard time?”
Lyric snorted, a humorless smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You could say that. She came in last week, complaining about the types of books I keep in stock.”
“Let me guess, anything that has sex, she’s got a problem with.”
She laughed, and damn if the sound of it didn’t work wonders in improving my sour mood. “Yes! Oh my god, how did you know?”
