Page 23 of Denial of the Heart


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That unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

Luke sighed and answered the phone. “Go ahead.”

“You good to deal with a loose dog on Pine?” Mercer said. “Golden retriever, real friendly. Mrs. Callahan’s losing her mind.”

Luke closed his eyes briefly. Then: “Copy. I’m close.”

He started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

Normal. That was the goal.

It hadn’t been a relationship.

It had been great sex, sure. But nothing more than scratching a physical itch.

He repeated it to himself as he slowed at the stop sign three blocks from the school. As he checked his mirrors.

Just casual. That was all it had ever been.

And now he was driving a routine patrol. Maple. Oak. The loop past the elementary school before cutting back toward Main. He’d driven it a hundred times. A thousand.

Luke kept the cruiser moving, hands steady on the wheel, speedometer dead on the limit. He was just… passing through.

He scanned the sidewalks because he was a cop, he was supposed to look out for the town. He wasn’t lookingforanyone?—

There she was.

Grace walked along the sidewalk with her tote slung over one shoulder. Her hair was pulled back, exposing the line of her neck. He’d had his face there, tucked in close.

Luke kept his eyes forward. Mostly.

He allowed himself the briefest glance. A fraction of a second. That was it. The same glimpse anyone driving past would get. The same one he’d get if she were any other teacher on any other street.

He wasn’t looking at her because he missed her. He wasn’t thinking about her at all.

Okay. Maybe he was thinking about her.

He missed the sex. Of course he missed the sex. The heat of it. The familiarity. The way she fit. The physical release. The uncomplicated want.

The way she always tucked her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating. The way she smiled when she saw him. The way she walked.

Luke drove on. He turned onto Main and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Grace was good in bed. That was all. It was chemistry. Biology.

Nothing more.

Plenty of women were good in bed. Thousands. Billions, probably.

So why did driving past the school, seeing her walking home, calm something inside him?

His body was just confused. The physical closeness they had shared was hard to separate from the sex.

It was normal that he missed the way she felt beneath his hands, the way she’d always sigh when he pulled her close. He missed the convenience, the familiarity, not the way she’d look at him like he was safe.

Safe.

The word lodged in his chest, unwelcome.