“Look, I know this isn’t anything you’re ever going to talk about, and I didn’t bring it up assuming you would,” he said. “It’s just that even after all the crap that went down with Thorn and Rory, you’re right back in the same crap. You’re like a broken record, stealing a silly-ass glass dog for no frigging good reason that I can see.”
“It was porcelain,” she pointed out.
“Whatever.” His mouth tightened. “You were on your way to prison, and a gift called the DCO falls out of the sky and right into your hands. I have my doubts as to whether this gig is even legit or not. Hell, it might be a case of moving from the frying pan into the fire. For all we know, you could be better off in jail than here. But the least you can do is stay around long enough to figure it out. As a bonus, you might even get yourself out of a prison term in the process.”
Dreya stared at him. She was having a hard time keeping her finger on the pulse of Braden’s motivation. This morning, he couldn’t wait to put her in jail. Now, it was like he wanted her to get away with the crime he’d arrested her for. Why were men so confusing?
She loaded more pasta on her fork. “That’s not the kind of advice I’d expect to hear from your typical, everyday cop.”
“Who said I’m your typical, everyday cop?” he asked as he went back to eating, too.
She regarded him thoughtfully. “I can’t argue with that. I’ve never met anyone who could keep up with me like you can, that’s for sure.”
It made her wonder whyhecould. Sometimes it seemed like he knew what she was going to do before she did, which was kind of scary.
Braden’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. That’s my special talent. Catching you.”
She snorted.
As they ate, they batted around ideas about what the acronym DCO stood for.
“Department of Covert Ops?” she suggested.
“Nah,” Braden said. “Too obvious.”
After that, they went back and forth about what kind of training they’d ask her to do. She had to admit, Braden could be fun to talk to when he stopped acting like a cop—or at least when she stopped thinking of him as one.
It was after eight o’clock in the evening by the time they finished dinner. That wasn’t late by any stretch of the imagination, but they were both exhausted.
Dreya was halfway to her bedroom when she realized sleeping naked like she usually did wasn’t going to work now that she had a roomie. She figured she might have to wear her tank top and panties when she realized Danica had packed a sleepshirt. Yes, it was a silly Betty Boop one that made her feel like she was sixteen years old again, but that was better than traipsing around in her underwear. She could just imagine how the very reserved Detective Hayes would react if she tried something like that.
It didn’t matter, though, since Braden was busy looking at something on his phone when she slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower, then scampered into her bedroom again.
Dreya was lying in bed a little while later waiting for sleep to come when she heard the shower turn on. With her keen hearing, she could easily hear Braden moving around. She didn’t intend for her mind to go there, but before she knew it, she was thinking about the fact that he was naked in the next room, probably covered from head to toe in warm, sudsy soap lather.
She bit her lip to stifle a moan. She had no idea why she cared that he was naked in there. Okay, that wasn’t true. She cared because he was a very fit, good-looking guy with lots of muscles. And because she’d been attracted to him since meeting him for the first time when he’d brought her into the police station for questioning all those years ago. If she listened carefully now, she could hear his hands moving across his skin. It wasn’t too hard imagining exactly which part of his body his big hands might be touching at any particular moment. It also wasn’t difficult imagining her hands touching him in those same places. Wouldn’t want him to miss any soap or anything.
That only reminded her of how long it’d been since she’d gotten busy with a guy. Between her legitimate jewelry design business and late-night break-ins, her love life had taken a serious nosedive.
She was still thinking about that when his scent hit her nose. She’d smelled it before, of course, during all those long, flirty interrogation sessions. But this was different. The scent was stronger now…more intense. Not to mention a little arousing.
Dreya almost groaned in disappointment when the shower turned off. How the hell could a man wash himself so fast? It seemed unfair.
There was a rustle of a towel, a mix of fast and slow movements as he dried his hair and his body. A moment later, he walked into the living room and past her partially open door wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.
As he walked around turning off the lights, she caught flashes of skin and scents of delicious yummy goodness. When the living room plunged into darkness, she had to stop her eyes from slipping into that freaky night-vision mode like they always did when she wanted to see well. Not that she would have minded the view. But Rory had told her that her eyes took on a bright green glow during the transformation. It would be impossible to miss if Braden saw it.
Dreya’s breath hitched when he stopped outside her half-open door on the way to his room. He rested one hand on his hip and the other casually on the doorframe. Even without switching on her enhanced night vision, she had no problem seeing every line and bulge of the muscles on his chest, shoulders, abs, and arms. Clearly, he worked out a lot.
“You going to be here in the morning?” he asked softly.
“Maybe,” she said. “I guess we’ll both find out when the sun comes up.”
He seemed to consider that but didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave her a nod, then started toward his room.
“Hey, Braden,” she called. “Mind if I ask you something?”
He stuck his head in again. “Shoot.”
