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Ipacethelengthof Frankie's study, head pounding.
No matter how many times I review the case files, I can't figure out who's feeding information to Damon Atwell.
After a long day in front of the laptop, the walls of the study close in.
I need to get out.
Diana's in the bedroom when I walk in, her hair falling over the back of an old t-shirt.
The sight of her calms my frayed nerves.
She smiles, dimples peeking out, and pats the spot beside her.
I sit, wrapping an arm around her waist and burying my face in her neck. Her scent envelops me, vanilla and jasmine, as her fingers comb through my hair.
"Rough day?" Her voice vibrates against my cheek.
I grunt. "Dead end after dead end. Someone has to be tipping Atwell off, but I can't figure out who or why."
"We'll get him." Her confidence in me never wavers.
"In the meantime, I picked up some DVDs. Want to watch something mindless?"
A movie sounds perfect. I pull back to study the selections—all favorites of mine—and smile. "You're too good to me."
"Just trying to keep your mind off things." She kisses my cheek.
"For now, at least. Since each other is all we have for company."
Heat sparks in my veins at the promise in her tone. But for now, a distraction will do.
I pick a movie at random and Diana slips it into the player before settling into my arms.
My thoughts quiet as the opening credits roll.
For now, it's enough to lose myself in the familiar story and the feel of Diana's body against mine. The rest can wait.
The dim bedroom is a cozy nest, lit only by the flickering TV and a few candles Diana lit earlier.
A bowl of popcorn sits, within reach, on the nightstand along with a couple bottles of beer.
She's not feeling too well and abstains.
Diana curls into my side, her head on my shoulder and an arm draped over my stomach.
I drop a kiss to the top of her head, breathing deep the scent of her shampoo.
On screen, Bogart and Bergman share a charged look, the tension and longing evident even in black and white.
Diana sighs, the sound wistful, and I know she's caught up in the romance of it.
Me, I'm caught up in the feel of her next to me, the rise and fall of her breaths and the occasional pop or crackle of a kernel between her teeth.
For the first time since those photos landed on my desk this morning, the knot in my chest eases.
Here in this room, in this bed, none of the dangers waiting outside can touch us.
Here we're safe and sheltered, free to simply be Anthony and Diana.
