And something in my chest cracks open.
She's here. In my evidence room. Reorganizing my files with handwritten notes and color-coded tabs. Making my brothers smile. Making me smile. Looking at me as if I'm not just the serious one, the cop, the one who follows rules.
I move toward her. Two steps and I'm close enough to catch her scent properly. Brown sugar and honey cutting through the musty smell of old paper and cardboard boxes.
Her laughter cuts off. Her breath catches. "Nacho?"
I cup her face in my hands. Tilt her chin up. Her skin is soft, warm, and her scent wraps around me in a way that makes my alpha purr.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
"For what?" Her voice comes out whisper-soft.
"For trying. For caring about getting it right."
Her eyes search mine. "I messed up your entire evidence room."
"You improved it." My thumb strokes along her jaw. "You saw a problem and you solved it. That's not messing up. That's initiative."
"Nacho." My name comes out breathless.
I lean in slowly. Giving her time to pull away. To say no. To remember we're in a government facility surrounded by evidence and security cameras.
She doesn't pull away.
I kiss her.
Soft at first. A brush of lips, gentle and reverent, tasting the surprised gasp she makes. Then deeper when her hands come up to grip my uniform shirt, when she rises on her toes to get closer, when her mouth opens under mine in invitation.
I pour everything into this kiss. Appreciation. Want. The gratitude I don't know how to put into words. She tastes like the coffee she had this morning and something sweeter underneath, something uniquely her.
My hands slide from her face to her waist, pulling her closer. She melts into me, soft curves against hard muscle, and a sound escapes her throat that goes straight to my groin.
I gentle the kiss before I lose control entirely. Pull back slowly. Rest my forehead against hers while we both catch our breath.
Her eyes are closed. Her lips are swollen. Her cheeks are flushed pink.
Beautiful.
"That was very thorough," she whispers.
"I'm thorough about everything I do."
She opens her eyes. They're dark, pupils blown wide. "Is this appropriate workplace behavior, Sheriff Negrorios?"
"Absolutely not."
"Good." She grins and pulls me back down for another kiss.
This one is less controlled. More demanding. Her fingers tangle in my hair and I groan against her mouth, backing her up until she hits the shelving unit. Evidence boxes rattle. I don't care.
My hands find her hips. Grip. She arches into me and the friction makes my vision blur.
"Nacho," she gasps against my mouth. "We're in the evidence room."
"I'm aware."
"There are cameras."
