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“Where is this?” I bark out.
“The Nashville Fire & Rescue Instagram page,” Tera answers cautiously. “Less than an hour ago.”
I hand the phone back and briefly catch the amusement on Major’s face before heading out to my truck.
The entire drive to Rowan’s, jealousy boils in my bloodstream. I finally understand Major’s reaction to seeing Jewls on that television screen so many months ago. Rowan may not be on a date, but the possessive animal in me is alive.
Since it’s Sunday, her car is the only one in the parking lot. My calls to her go unanswered, and when I trace her cell, it shows her two miles away.
Is she still walking the dog?
I drive past the Vanderbilt campus and into a trendy residential section, noting the firehouse in the photos about a half-mile from Rowan’s phone location. She’s nowhere on the street. I park and dial Talon.
“Yo.”
“Run this address.” I spout off the location.
“No need, the townhome belongs to Cruz and Alex.”
“What the hell is she doing here?”
“She’s watching their dog, dumbass.”
“Here?”
“If you’d hung around another minute, you’d know the answer.” He’s enjoying this way too much.
“Don’t fuck with me.”
“Knock on the door and ask her. Boy, I wish I could be there for this.” The line goes dead and I blow out a long breath.
My call goes unanswered again, and my tolerance snaps. I ring the doorbell but get no answer. After a few minutes, my frustration simmers and a sense of worry takes over. Flashbacks hit of the day she went missing. My instincts kick in and possibilities run through my head.
I walk around back, recognizing the security system. The back door is locked, but the alarm panel is unarmed. I jog back to my truck and retrieve my tools, circling back around to pick the lock.
All the tension eases when everything looks in order. The house is mostly quiet except for the faint sound of water running.
The shower. She’s taking a shower and I’m standing in the kitchen like a fucking stalker.
The gentlemanly thing to do would be to go to my truck or sit on the back deck and text her I’m here. Eventually, she’ll check her messages.
The water cuts off, and a scratching noise sounds from upstairs.
“Pepper, give me a second to dry off.”
The dog whines.
“Oh, okay, you can come in, you big baby.”
I make a split-second decision, hoping like hell I don’t scare the shit out of her.
“Rowan, it’s Ford. I’m downstairs.”
There’s a loud shriek and the sound of pounding overhead. Pepper comes springing down the stairs, making a beeline for me. I crouch to catch her, avoiding her wagging tongue.
“Ford?” Rowan appears through the slats in the staircase and my chest seizes.
She’s clutching a towel, her hair soaked, droplets clinging to her skin. The smell of her shampoo and body wash lingers through the air, causing my cock to stir.
