Time stops. The mission, the town, the danger—it all falls away. There's only Naomi, the taste of her, the feel of her pressed against me. For the first time in years, maybe the first time ever, I feel fully present in my own body. Not a weapon, not a ghost, just a man.
When I pull back, we're both breathing heavily. The taste of her lingers on my lips.
"Walker," she whispers, and my name in her mouth sounds like a prayer.
Movement flickers at the edge of my vision—a shadow shifting behind glass. I snap back to reality, my senses instantly on alert.
"Did you see that?" I ask Naomi, keeping my voice low, my body still close to hers.
She nods, eyes sharp despite the flush on her cheeks. We both switch seamlessly from whatever just happened between us back to the mission.
I’m thankful my jeans are dark, and the light is fading, because my erection would be pretty obvious otherwise. The sudden possible threat helps dampen my dick’s enthusiasm so I can at least walk.
We approach the house casually, arms around each other like we're just curious tourists. The For Sale sign in the yard is weathered, sun-bleached to near illegibility.
"Maude at the diner said all these houses were abandoned," Naomi whispers, leaning into me like she's saying something intimate. "Nobody's lived here for years.”
We reach the picture window, peering through the dusty glass. What I see doesn't match the exterior at all. While the outside looks neglected, crumbling at the edges, the interior, while not pristine, isn’t in decay. Used but clean furniture. Cluttered but clean surfaces. It looks lived in.
My spine tingles. I feel him before he makes his presence known. I don’t reach for my hidden weapon, but I’m ready.
"Can I help you folks?"
The voice comes from behind us, and we turn to find a man in a sheriff's uniform standing a few feet away. His hand rests casually on his belt, not far from his holstered weapon. His face is dark and weathered, eyes sharp beneath the brim of his hat.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," Naomi gushes, shifting effortlessly into character. "We were just enjoying your lovely town and wanted to see if there were any houses for sale. I love home renovation and real estate shows. Big HGTV girl. Isn’t that right, honey?"
She squeezes my arm, looking up at me with such convincing adoration.
The sheriff doesn't quite buy it. I can tell from the way his eyes narrow slightly, the subtle shift in his stance. He chews on nothing for a moment, considering us.
"Well, I saw the two of you getting pretty hot and bothered with each other on that street corner," he finally says, his drawl a little too practiced. "Probably a little too PG-13 for our little town. There's a motel—that way." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "I suggest, and I mean this literally, that you two get a room."
The threat beneath his words is clear as day to me, though his tone remains casual. He's not suggesting.
"Will do, Officer," I say, adopting a sheepish grin. I pull Naomi closer, easily playing the part of a man who can't keep his hands off his wife. "Sorry about that. We're newlyweds."
The sheriff nods, but his eyes remain cold. "Congratulations. Motel's that way. Owner's name is Reggie. Tell him Sheriff Dawson sent you."
"Thank you, Sheriff," Naomi says, her voice sweet as honey. "We appreciate it."
As we walk away, her arm still wrapped around my waist, I can feel the sheriff's eyes boring into our backs. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder.
The hair on the back of my neck is still up. But that’s not what makes me nervous.
Because I don’t know if I’d feel more in danger out here with an unknown enemy.
Or alone with Naomi, whose kiss, real or not, still burns my lips.
Nineteen
The motel room door clicks shut behind us. It's small, dated, and exactly what you'd expect in a town like this.
I keep my eyes on the window, scanning the parking lot for any sign of the sheriff or other watchers. Also, to keep my eyesoffNaomi. Because it’s been hard enough to stay away from her since we’ve been traveling together.
But now that my lips have tasted hers?
It feels impossible.
