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“No can do. I have orders. You’re stuck with me until further notice.”
“What?” I asked, my voice a hushed whisper that I was sure he couldn’t hear. Until he answered.
“Yeah, I’m no more fuckin’ pleased about it than you appear to be. But Quin took everyone else off, and put me on. You’re just going to have to deal with me.”
“Does this arrangement come with a bottle of tequila to make you more tolerable?”
“Same guy when I’m drinking, doll.”
“It wasn’t for you,” I shot back, making a low, rumbling laugh move through him, then move out onto the still night air. It was a good sound, too. Maybe because I had a feeling that this was not the kind of man who found cause to laugh often.
“You can put the phone down, Aven,” he said, rolling his eyes at me. “I have no plans on charging you. I just need to get this fucking job done, so I can go home.”
God, he made me sound like such a chore.
If he was even the least bit friendly, I might have felt bad.
“What job?”
“Looking for a trail.”
“Finn already did that.”
“And if this were Finn’s specialty, then I would agree that this is pointless. But Finn’s specialty is cleaning shit. Mine is tracking shit. Or hiding from trackers. So this is my thing. Go on back inside and relax. I will beep when I leave, so you know if any other noises are suspicious after then. And then you can pummel them with your frying pan.”
“Come on, Mackey,” I called, watching him as he looked at me, knowing exactly what I was telling him to do, and slowly sitting his butt down on the ground. I swear he was saying Make me, human.
“Yeah, don’t think your dog likes you, doll.”
I couldn’t think of anything witty to say to that, so I lifted my chin, turned, and went back inside my house, locking the door just in case.
As I moved to sit down on the couch, the cushions giving so much that I was starting to feel the wood underneath, something Gunner had said started to finally sink in.
Quin took everyone else off, and put me on. You’re just going to have to deal with me.
Quin took everyone else off my case?
That made no sense.
I thought it was a huge priority to figure out who the guy was, and where he lived, so evidence could get cleaned, and the whole case could be wrapped up.
He had made it sound like that was on the top of his list.
And then just a couple hours later, I was suddenly down at the bottom?
My stomach lurched, something inside saying that maybe, just maybe he dropped me down on the list because of what had happened outside of She’s Bean Around.
Because of the kiss.
I had spent every minute since his lips pulled from mine trying not to focus on it, not to obsess about it.
Clearly, I failed at this.
It had been the one dominant thought I had to keep me company.
And what a thought it was.
I swear, even now, hours later, I could still feel a slight tingling in my lips from his; I could still feel the oversensitive skin of my cheeks from slight beard burn.
Just a kiss.
One of dozens in my life.
Yet, for some reason, it had left more of an impact.
That sounded juvenile and cheesy, but that was just how it was. I’d never had a kiss that made my body forget it had knees before.
Quin did that.
And then he had rushed off.
And called almost all his men off my case.
Hell, I hadn’t even met this Gunner guy. He hadn’t been at the meeting about my case.
Why the change?
And why hadn’t he at least texted to tell me about it?
Was he really being that immature about the whole thing?
I mean, he had no idea I was still fantasizing about the kiss hours later. He had no reason to think it was going to be a problem.
Yet he was distancing himself – and three-fourths of his team – from me.
“Ugh,” I growled, grabbing my trusty phone and pan, heading to the bathroom, changing into yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee. I stood in front of the mirror, scrubbing at the makeup with oil as the instructions on the tube suggested, making very slow progress in getting it all off.
At least I would never have to worry about sweating through it at work.
The scars had settled in, blue and purple were now mixed with some green and yellow as well, making me wonder how long they would last, how much longer I would have to wear makeup that felt like it was suffocating my face all day.
I had just turned off the bathroom light when I heard the beep of Gunner’s truck.
I sighed as I went downstairs, slipping my feet into flip-flops I kept by the door for just this purpose. Dragging Mackey back inside the house. He would have happily stayed outside – and away from me – all night. But it was dropping too cold. I was worried about him getting sick.
