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He had tried to lure her into his suite when they’d returned from Scott’s house the night before, but her pal Powell had gotten to her first—and hadn’t left Haldyn’s suite at all. He suspected Powell had been hiding from Gunnar. It had been an emotional night for everyone all around.
Haldyn had just stood there, where he’d dragged her into his suite after she’d knocked, and stared at him. Jarrod had crooked his finger at her, knowing it was a long shot. “Come here, Doc. Let me kiss you. We can be late.”
Fire had hit her beautiful cheeks. Her gaze had dropped and lodged somewhere on his chest. Jarrod had balled up the shirt in his hand and tossed it toward the chair nearby. He’d taken two steps toward her, wrapped his hands around her waist, and lifted that woman right off her feet. His mouth had met hers.
And every sane thought he’d had in his head had flown right out the window.
He’d kept kissing that woman right there—somehow he’d ended up lifting her and bracing them both against the wall, while he’d kissed the hell out of her—until he’d heard her little buddy calling her name in the hall.
“You have got to stop doing that.” Haldyn had glared at him. But she hadn’t pushed him away. No. Her fingers had been running over his chest like she’d wanted to touch him, too. There was always that.
Well, Jarrod hadn’t been able to help himself. She’d been wearing blue again. That pantsuit that was the exact same shade as her eyes—it was one of her favorites. Her hair had been pulled back in a soft braid. He’d wanted to run his fingers over her hair and just see how silky it actually felt. He never thought he’d go for the all-buttoned-up type, but damn…did he want to unbutton her.
“You have got to stop tempting me to do that.” But he’d stepped back, grabbed his TSP polo, and pulled it over his head. “Better go catch Powell before Gunnar does. Or that boy will never make it to work on time. I take it we’re going in early?”
“I don’t want to leave what we found in Scott’s office just sitting there. I want to go over it today. To tag and log it myself. Before something can…happen.”
“Then let’s get there.” He paused a moment, really looked at her. Haldyn wore that pantsuit often, but—it hung on her a bit more than it had last time. He was almost certain of it. She’d lost weight since the abduction. Yep. The woman needed him to take care of her. No denying that. “After you eat breakfast.”
“I’m good.” She shot that little snotty look at him again and turned to leave. As her friend called her name again. “I’ll eat later.”
Sure she would. Ultraprocessed crap from the vending machine. No. Not on his watch.
“Nope.” Enough was enough. Someone had to see to it that she took better care of herself. It was going to have to be him. Jarrod grabbed his holster and ID, wallet and keys. Then motioned his little rabbit into the hallway. Gunnar’s little rabbit was there, an irritated, concerned look on her face.
“There you are. Why didn’t you answer me?” Powell looked at Jarrod. Smart woman, she knew it was his fault.
“I was busy…arguing with…him.” Haldyn shot him a narrow-eyed look.
“She has lost weight. I am not doing a good job guarding her body. So…I am taking her downstairs to breakfast.” He sent a significant look at the other woman out there. He was almost certain Gunnar’s precious Powell-rabbit had shrunk a bit, too. “You, too.”
She started to protest.
Well, he held up a hand to that. “Nope. I can carry you both downstairs, you know. Just try me.”
“You are as much of an asshole as Gunnar,” she almost snarled it at him.
“You’d better believe it. We are cut from the same awesome cloth. I took an oath to protect and serve. Now, I shall protect you both from starvation. But…the staff in this place can serve.” He gave a mock bow. But he meant it. These ladies needed someone to watch over them. He was certain of it. “Ladies, downstairs. My work is never done.”
The only reason she gave in to that man was because she was hungry. And because Powell hadn’t eaten much at dinner the night before. Powell had been too busy hanging off to the side of Victor Scott’s kitchen—avoiding Gunnar. And well, watching over Shelby. They had all watched over Shelby, considering what had happened in that place. Jake had finally said enough was enough after they’d eaten, and then he’d taken Shelby out of there.
Haldyn had seen how her friend’s hands had been shaking. Jake had taken her home to their baby. Haldyn had texted her that night—Shelby preferred text over actual calls—to check on her. Shelby would be okay. She was one of the strongest women Haldyn had ever known.
By the time they’d finished with what they had started there, everyone was pale and tense. From Gunnar all the way down to Hope.
But they had at least found the next step to take.
After they ate, she told Powell goodbye.
Then it was time to take that next step.
58
Sol watched when the car pulled up in front of the precinct eight days after that damned Barratt barbecue. He waited, until the rush of nicotine hit. Only damned thing that calmed him down anymore. Wilson and his pals were asking questions. About how Major Crimes had known about mile marker forty-four.
Just a matter of time until they figured it out. He didn’t really give a damn if they did. He hadn’t given a damn about anything in weeks.
He couldn’t light one up inside the building any longer. He had to stay in the smoking section around the side of the building. Bullshit, but that was the rule. He did his best to at least look like he was playing the game.
