“No, it’s fine. I’ll look in the morning. It’s getting late, so we should all get some sleep.” The pointed note in his tone told me that while he was grateful for the info, I needed to let him do the rest.
And I would.
Mostly.
I would still do my own quick search. It was all public knowledge, after all.
He didn’t need to know that, however. “Okay. Will you at least let us know if you make a positive ID?”
“Of course. The department will release a statement.”
I narrowed my eyes at the phone. That wasn’t what I meant.
“Get some rest, Mina. I’ll talk to you later.”
A quick huff puffed past my lips. “Fine.” Bidding Ozzie goodnight, I hung up. Not skipping a beat, I typed Moira’s name into the web browser.
Luke chuckled. “You’re googling her family, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” I had her parents’ names from the articles we found at the library. With a few clicks, I found out they lived in Juneau.
The laptop lid slowly closed. I glanced up from the screen at Luke, who used one finger to shut the lid.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You found your answer. Ozzie’s also right. It’s getting late, and you still need to drive home.”
My lips twisted, annoyed at his logic. I wanted to keep digging. It was no longer about getting back to my café renovations. I mean, sure, I still wanted that, but now that I had a face to go with the sightless eyes staring back at me from the void in the wall, I wanted her and her family to have closure.
“Come on.” Luke pushed away from the table to stand and took my hands in his. “You can come back tomorrow, and we’ll do more digging.”
I wanted to answer. To tell him that sounded like a great idea. I wanted to know more about Moira and what happened to her.
But I couldn’t.
The feel of his work-roughened fingers against my skin short-circuited my thoughts and sent me on a spiral of need that descended straight to my core. My muscles quivered as all thoughts of Moira and her unsolved death were pushed to the dark recesses of my mind by the zing of desire his touch provoked.
He felt it too.
Those storm-gray eyes turned turbulent and a muscle in his jaw ticked silently as our gazes caught and held.
His hands turned in mine, lacing our fingers together. “You should go. So you can get some sleep.”
Should I? Sleep was overrated. This deep-seated desire, though… it needed my attention.
“Yeah, probably.” My voice came out breathy, choked by the rising heat stoking in my belly. I raised our hands, drawing our bodies closer.
His head dipped.
This was insane. Was I really about to kiss a man I’d known for a week?
The first touch of his lips on mine scrambled my thoughts.
You’re about to do a whole lot more than kiss him, my inner voice said, then whooped.
She was right. I was.
The feel of his mouth on mine was as addictive as any drug. Even as I parted my lips so he could gain entry and deepen the kiss, I wanted more.
