He wasn’t just kissing her—he wasclaimingher in a way that made time blur, and everything she was feeling made sense.
By the time they broke apart, her lungs were burning, her lips tingling, and her brain was off traipsing somewhere halfway down the hallway.
‘Well,’ she whispered, breathless.‘That was…’
‘Hello,’ he murmured close.‘It’s about time you showed up.’
Thirty-five
Finn didn’t give Taryn a choice.He just shoved her suitcase into the back of the troopy, like it was always meant to be there, like she was.Didn’t say she had to stay with him, he just wasn’t letting her argue about it.
She was here.That was enough.For now.
He’d gone to the pub, ready to knock heads because he didn’t do speeches.He didn’t do crowds or calming words.That was Marcus’s job, and Finn was happy to back them up.But the Elsie Creek Police weren’t even close to making it back into town before this pub exploded.
But the moment he’d stepped inside the bar, the fight drained right out of him.
Because there she was…
Taryn.Standing on the bar like it was her battleground.In jeans that clung like memory, with her hair clipped back in that no-nonsense way that had him itching to set it free.
And the whole bloody town, who’d been spoiling for violence, had quieted.
For her.
He couldn’t breathe for a second.
She’d been gone a month.No calls.Nothing.Just radio silence reduced to short sharp text messages, because they couldn’t let anyone know.It’d destroy the case they were building and wreck everything.
So, he’d told himself it didn’t matter.Told himself he was fine.Kept busy.And stayed focused.
But seeing her—
Damn, didn’t it hit him like a dust storm to the chest.The noise of the crowd faded, and all he heard was her voice—low, calm, anchoring.
And he’d just stood there.Every nerve ending reaching for her like the month apart hadn’t happened.
It wasn’t just that he’d missed her.
It was the way his bodyknew her.Along with that ache in his chest that said,there you are.
He hadn’t realised how hollow he’d felt until she filled his space.
So when she’d climbed down off the bar, and when her boots hit the floor and she’d turned—
He didn’t think.Didn’t speak.
He’d just reached for her and dragged her somewhere behind a closed door and kissed her.Because if he’d tried to say anything to her, beyond hello, he would’ve ruined it.
But that kiss…
When he should’ve been thinking about work and the town, he was thinking about her lips, and the way they’d crashed into his like they’d both been holding their breath for weeks.How her mouth had tasted like sugar and defiance.And how she’d looked at him afterward, like maybe she didn’t regret it.
That was the part he couldn’t shake, that moment that kept playing over in his head.
Soon after, she’d made him take her to the food van at the train station, muttering something about reinforcements, and came back armed with coffees and breakfast rolls like she was preparing for a siege.
‘Your cup of mud.’Taryn handed him a takeaway cup inside the troopy.‘Drink it.’
