I was relieved she’d saidwe. She wasn’t kicking me off this investigation. “We will,” I said. “We make a good team.”
“Don’t try to butter me up, Reynolds.”
“What? I mean it.” I shrugged. “It would help if your arm wasn’t in a sling, and you could lift more than two pounds. But you have other talents. You’ve got a real set of balls, Deputy Marsh. Strolling around Donny Phelan’s house like you owned the place.”
“You were mad when I left for the bathroom. I saw the look on your face.”
“Maybe. But I was wrong. Because of you, we have a new lead.”
She lifted her chin. “Thank you for acknowledging that.”
“My pleasure.”
We took the dishes back inside, and I rinsed them off. Keira lingered on the single rickety stool at the kitchen island, checking her phone.
When I finished, she set her device down. “We should probably talk about how this is going to go tonight,” she said.
My brain leaped straight to dirty places. “I’m sorry?”
Keira’s eyes couldn’t quite meet mine. “Theone-bedsituation, Dean. There’s no couch. Nowhere else to sleep.”
“Oh.Oh. Right. No, the bed’s yours. I should’ve mentioned that already.”
“I’m not kicking you out of your room and making you sleep on the ground.”
Was she saying she’d share the bed with me?
My cock twitched just from thinking about it. I was such an asshole.
“I don’t sleep in there anyway. I have a bedroll in one of the upstairs rooms. That’s all I need.”
“You sleep on the floor when there’s a bed all set up?” she asked incredulously. “Why else would you finish the bedroom?”
“You said it yourself. There’s a lot about me that doesn’t make sense.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “And I should just start taking your word for things.”
I walked her down the hall, pausing before we reached the bedroom door. The lamp was still on from earlier, and in the tight confines of the hallway, Keira’s floral scent was intoxicating.
She was right here. In my house. Still couldn’t get over that.
“Feel free to shower,” I said. “Use whatever of mine that you want. I’m sorry you don’t have your own stuff here.”
“I’ll make do. Just don’t expect me to look pretty.”
“Like you’re ever anything else.”
“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”
“I wasn’t trying to flatter you. It’s just the truth. You’re beautiful.”
She glanced away.
“I mean it.” My hand lifted, fingers caressing her chin and making her look at me.
Fuck, what was I doing?
I was pushing too far, given the awkwardone-bedconversation we’d just had. But I couldn’t help it. We’d been spending a lot of time together, I was all kinds of riled up from our narrow escape, and for the first time in maybeever, we were about to sleep under the same roof.
