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I nod.
Her shoulders fall. “And you’re not acting shocked.”
“Their actions indicated they were looking for an emotional response, which implies their target was close to you.”
“That’s about what Trent said. Beckett, however, tried to switch the script and blame you.”
“I assume you’ve already ruled that out, unless all the kissing was a ploy for info.”
Libby bites the end of her thumbnail. “No, and I’d really like to get back to that part of the evening.”
“How about we grab some dinner, sort out what we know, and go from there?”
* * *
I bite back my growl as the searing pain in my shoulder yanks me from sleep. Throwing my legs off the bed I sit up, unable to escape the phantom smell of burning flesh.
Spiegel lifts her head as I head for the door, and out to the living room where I left my things. I rip the bag open and dig for the pouch of medicine.
Libby steps out of the bedroom, tying a purple silk robe around her waist as I dump the pills into my palm and toss the ointment on the couch arm as Libby returns, handing me a glass of water.
“You don’t have to stay up.”
She lifts her brow, then picks up the tube of ointment, examining the label. “Does it help?”
“Moderately.” I reach for it, but she pulls away, patting the seat next to her.
My teeth grind together, but I sit. and she squeezes a mound of the white cream into her hand, then rubs her palms together.
The nerves in my chest buzz and I wince slightly as her warm skin contacts my own, mangled scars.
“Tell me if I make it worse.”
I nod once, but she applies just the right amount of pressure as she massages every inch. My muscles relax and a moan escapes my throat. Libby tilts her head forward. Looking up at my down-turned face.
As the flashes of the dream fade, so does the pain, and the phantom smell is replaced with faint peppermint.
I open my fist and rest my hand on her knee. “You should probably wash that off soon.” I lift my head, and she places a kiss on my beard.
Grabbing the glass, I follow her to the kitchen snaking my arms around her to put it in the sink. She arches against me, leaning her head back.
I clasp my hands over her stomach, nuzzling against the nape of her neck, until all I smell is her scent.
Chapter Fifteen
Libby
Riker holds me so tightly I can feel his muscles, tense and vibrating beneath his skin. He recoils whether intentional or not.
“You want to talk?”
“No.” He leans back on his heels, his shoulders pull back, but doesn’t let go.
I turn against him, pressing my cheek to his chest. His jaw pulses and hand clenches against my back.
“You need me to be snarky and take your mind off of it?”
He presses his lips to the top of my head. “I wish it were that easy, but I promise, it’s not going to help right now. It’s late.”
