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She didn’t imagine it when she caught Jack staring at her lips, which only made her stare at his, but instead of breaking away, she wanted to lean in closer.
But Jack rose suddenly almost as if he’d remembered he’d left the oven on, or a candle burning next door. “I’ve got to go.”
As he moved swiftly to the front door, Maggie remembered the dog. “What about Chief? Should he stay here for the night? I’m sure Lexi wouldn’t mind, and I can bring him over in the morning.”
He turned to her, his hand on the doorknob and some kind of unspoken panic she couldn’t decipher in his eyes.
“Sure. That would be great.”
Instead of opening the door, he stood towering over her with a look of tenderness that made her breath hitch.
“Do you have to go?” Maggie dared to ask.
Yes, he does. Let him go.
His large warm hand traced the curve of her face.
“I think I do.”
Maggie nodded. “See you tomorrow.”
“Count on it.”
Oh, she was, more than she wanted to admit.
Chapter 10
What had he been thinking? Answer: probably not much, since he’d been too busy staring at her lips. Soft, luscious lips he’d wanted to kiss, whether it was a good idea or not. And, of course, it wasn’t a good idea. This was the second time he’d almost kissed Maggie, which meant he needed to get a handle on this because one thing he knew for certain.
She deserved a much better man than he could ever be. Not only that, but last time he checked he had a goal, and it was to get back to Virginia. He’d already left too many things undone, and no way would he start something with Maggie that he couldn’t finish. She didn’t deserve that.
But tonight, when she’d talked about her loss, it had taken him back to his own. Her words could have been his. He and Robert had left too many things undone, and too many words unsaid. And if he’d only known it would be the last time he’d speak to his buddy, he might have come up with something better to say. He ran the back of his hand over his eyes.
Jack pressed down on Robert’s wound. The bullet had hit Robert in the stomach, not the chest. Had to be a good thing.There was time, still time. Plenty, and the paramedics were on their way.
Robert’s eyes fluttered open. “Hey. I’m OK.”
“Yeah, you are,” Jack said.
“Where is he?”
Robert probably meant their prisoner, Luther Williamson, leader of the white supremacist group he’d worked hard to break up. The man guilty of the murder of a judge in Virginia. The prisoner they’d been transporting until everything had gone so wrong.
“Not for you to worry about,” Jack said. “He didn’t get away.”
“What about the kid?” Robert asked through clenched teeth.
He wasn’t fooling anyone. The sweat drops on his forehead, the pale grayish shade of his skin told the story of his pain, not that Robert would let on.
Jack didn’t want to talk about the kid, and Robert had to concentrate on holding on until the paramedics got here. Which, by the amount of loud sirens he heard in the background, would be imminently.
“Don’t worry about him,” Jack said, forgetting that his partner could read him like one of his favorite crime paperback novels.
And where were those ambulances?
“Right,” Robert spit out. “Don’t worry, bro, I would have done the same.”
No, he wouldn’t have. Robert Craig didn’t know the meaning of the word hesitate. He’d have taken care of business without a single thought. Execute. Mitigate loss of life.
