“Liar,” she said.
I huffed a laugh. “Maybe a little.”
When I finished, I sat back on my heels. “You’re not staying here.”
She scowled. “Excuse me?”
“Someone just tried to put a bullet through you on your front porch,” I said. “They know where you live. They know your schedule. You’re not staying here.”
“My whole life is here,” she said. “I can’t just—”
“For now,” I cut in. “Just until we find whoever pulled that trigger and the person paying him.”
She shook her head. “Where would I even go?”
“My dad’s,” I said. “His house is already crawling with ex-soldiers. One more person won’t make a difference.”
“He’ll love that,” she muttered.
“He loves you like a daughter,” I said.
“You coming or am I throwing you over my shoulder?” I said.
Her eyes flared. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “You wanna test that?”
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Her breath brushed my jaw, fast and shallow. I could see every shade of gold in her eyes, every freckle across her nose.
She looked away first.
“Fine,” she said. But let me grab my pillow.
“Why, we have plenty of pillows.”
“But they aren’t like mine.”
“Sure, Detective,” I said. “You keep telling yourself that.”
By the timewe got back to my dad’s property, the rain had slowed to a drizzle again. The cabin glowed warm against the dark woods, like some kind of stubborn lighthouse. We went there first.
Inside, Logan and Boone were still awake, because of course they were. Russ had fallen asleep with a file open on his chest and a pen uncapped in his hand.
Logan’s brows shot up when he saw the bandage on Julia’s arm. “We miss a party?”
“Sniper at her place,” I said. “Took a couple shots and ran.”
Boone swore. Russ jolted awake and fumbled the pen.
Julia squared her shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t,” Logan said bluntly. “Not if you stay alone. You can take my room.”
“I didn’t say she could take your room,” I muttered.
Logan ignored me. “You’re safest with us, Detective. Whoever’s behind this just escalated. They’re done warning you off. Next time they’ll aim lower.”
She looked at each of us in turn—Logan’s steady seriousness, Boone’s focused anger, Russ’s quiet concern. Then her gaze landed on me.
