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He kissed the top of her head. “I’m fine. The bullet grazed me. Got a couple stitches so I’m good to go. The shirt’s in the trash, by the way.”

“Apologies,” Barrow said from the doorway.

Conrad clutched her tighter, glaring from his former partner to the sheriff, who sat in the corner. “I told you not to call her.”

“And I heeded your demand,” the sheriff countered. “Despite my better judgment. Thanks to you, I’m due a tongue lashing from Fiona.”

Jane sniffled and pulled away to prop her hands on her hips. “You planned to hide your wound from me?”

Conrad winced. “Not hide. I planned to tell you face to face, so you’d see I was fine.”

“No. That is completely unacceptable and not at all what partners do. So get this straight,” she said, poking him in the chest and only caring the slightest bit when he hissed. “I’m here for the long haul, and we share everything. You don’t pick and choose what’s good for me like I’m a child. We decide things together. Got it?”

Surprise lit his baby blues. “I…yes. Okay. You’re right.”

“Of course I am.” And dang it, she cared big time about his pain level. “Did I hurt you?” She petted and kissed the spot she’d jabbed.

His fingers closed around her hand, engulfing it with his warmth. “The little twinge was worth it to hear your impassioned speech.”

“What happened?” she asked, finally warming up.

“I’ll explain, I promise. Will you tell me how you found out I was here?”

“Ashley called me.” And. Hmm. How had the other woman known that no one else would phone Jane to give her the lowdown? “Ashley Katz from the Headliner.”

“Reporters,” Conrad grumbled.

She burrowed her face in the hollow of his neck, tears welling in her eyes once more. “You could have died,” she mumbled. Then words poured from her without a breath in between. “What if this is the curse in action? I mean, I linked our names together on the flyer. That was practically a nuclear bomb.”

“Breathe,” he said, petting her hair, and she did.

In. Out. She’d planned on not giving the curse any power, she really had, but old habits died hard and this was too coincidental.

“Give us some privacy,” he said.

“Things were just getting good,” the sheriff grumbled. He stood and ambled past the curtain, taking a willing Barrow with him.

Conrad cupped one side of her face and traced his thumb over the rise of her cheek. Features alight with tenderness, he said, “I think you’re right. This is the curse in action.”

Wait. What? “You told me the curse didn’t exist!” she squeaked. “You’re supposed to disagree with me and assure me everything is going to be okay. Why aren’t you assuring me everything is going to be okay?”

“No, sweetheart. I told you there was a curse because you believed it, and I stand by that. The curse was conceived with a thought, nurtured, birthed, and grown to full maturity. It lives and breathes in you, and it knows it’s losing its hold. Now it’s fighting back, doing its best to convince you to follow its lead so it can strengthen again.”

That kind of sort of made sense. The curse had ruled her family for so long. Too long. And she’d allowed it. For all of her life, she’d nursed, petted, and humored it. Even after she’d committed to Conrad, she’d held a part of herself back from him, clinging to the curse.

“I know you’re afraid,” he continued. “But I need you to trust me rather than the curse.” His gaze roved over her face and canted his head. “Did you cut your hair for the case?”

“Tiffany insisted.” She played with the ends. “But you like it?”

A smile bloomed, his irises glittering with delight. As his lids hooded, he shifted a lock between his fingers. “I don’t think I’ve ever liked anything more. Please do not run away or ice me out, keeping me from this perfection.”

A blush seared twin circles into her cheeks. “I won’t, I promise.” But she did need to consider some things. She’d basically shouted that she wasn't leaving him. Did she have the courage to follow through?

Solve the case, figure it out. This investigation was personal now. No one hurt her man.

“Well? What happened? I demand every detail, beginning with how much you hated leaving without me this morning.”

He snort-laughed. “I’ve been discharged. Let’s go to the cafeteria and talk.”

“Is there a reason you keep delaying the question?” she asked with a prim tone.

“Yes.” He took her hand and ushered her into the hall. They strode past the sheriff and Barrow, who huddled together, talking.

Curiosity frothed within her. She and Conrad reached the cafeteria, a comfortable space for visitors and staff to dine. After purchasing drinks, Jane steered them to a secluded table in the farthest corner of the room, the seats a muted, soothing sea foam. No man’s land.

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