Maybe monsters aren’t always the problem.
Maybe they’re not monsters at all.
Maybe the scariest thing isn’t what peopleare, but who they pretend to be.
As if he can hear my thoughts, Owen glances back at me.
“There you are.I see that look, Agent,” he rumbles.
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re either going to bolt or stay forever.But before you decide, let me share something my mama always says,” he begins.
“Your mama?”
“Yep.And before you judge, a man who has a good enough relationship with his mama to quote her might be worth listening to.Anyway, she always says it doesn’t matter where you go or where you end up because in the end, there you are.”
“What?”
“You’re still you.You can still beyouanywhere at all.”
“Oh.”I shrug and pretend what he says didn’t just shake me to the core.
“Well, I’m just here on assignment.It’s not like I’ve made long term plans, so.”
“Take your time,” he says, and damn if his voice isn’t soft now.“We move slow here.”
My heart jumps.“Really?From what I’ve seen, this place runs on coffee, chaos, and naked Gnome scandals.”
He chuckles.
“Welcome to Arrhythmia, Agent.”
And just like that, I think I might not want to leave after all.
“This doesn’t feel appropriate,” I say, following him up the creaky steps.
“This?”He pauses at the top, looking back with one brow raised.“Nah.I mean, if I’d put your suitcase inmy bedroom, maybe.But I swear, Agent, this is strictly on the up and up.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
I know I’m not imagining the way he keeps glancing at me when he thinks I’m not looking.
I’m definitely not imagining the way his voice drops an octave every single time he calls meAgent.
It makes me wonder how good he’ll sound when he says my actual name.
And if I’m being real here, then I’m absolutely not imagining the fact that I can’t stop ogling him.
Not for a minute.
The man is pure walking temptation—beard, muscles, tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve, that rough-around-the-edges cowboy vibe that practically screams, “Lick him, he’s mine.”
Nope.Not today, Satan.
I clear my throat and say, “Look, Sheriff?—”
“Call me Owen.”
