But there’s a bed waiting down the hall, and a man who just chose the couch without hesitation.
That feels like something real.
Chapter 4
Carly
Thebedroomsmellslikehim. Clean soap and something warmer underneath. Woodsmoke. Leather. Skin. The kind of scent that settles deep into cotton and doesn’t wash out easy.
It should make me feel safe.
Instead, it makes everything sharper.
I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling. The blanket is heavier than the one on the couch. The mattress softer. My body is exhausted.
I should be asleep.
The second I close my eyes, I see them.
The hallway at Red Hot Velvet. The badge. The way the smile fell off his face.
Hands.
The room.
I jerk awake with a gasp, heart pounding so hard it hurts. It takes me a second to realize I must have drifted off. A minute. Maybe less.
My skin feels cold again.
I curl onto my side and pull the blanket tighter, but it doesn’t help. The room feels too big. Too quiet.
I sit up.
The house is silent except for the faint hum of something in the kitchen and the low creak of wood settling.
I don’t want to walk out there.
I don’t want to be alone in here.
I step into the hallway before I can change my mind.
He’s standing at the front window, shoulders tense, posture straight. Not relaxed. Not even close. He hasn’t gone to sleep.
Of course he hasn’t.
He glances back when he hears me. His eyes go over me once, quick and assessing.
“You okay?”
I shake my head.
I move closer, careful with my steps. I follow his gaze through the glass.
Two figures outside near the tree line. Still. Watchful.
My stomach drops.
He sees it.
