I’m not judging.
I’m not.
I’m just cataloging. Evaluating.
Definitely not imagining dragging her into my lap like the others never existed.
How many does she have?
And why the hell does it bother me so much?
They exit twenty minutes later, bags in his arms.
She’s not carrying a damn thing.
Just sipping from a bottled iced coffee like she didn’t break into someone’s backyard.
Someone wrapped up with a money launderer.
Her.
Already a person of interest in a murder.
He walks her to a car, says something that makes her laugh.
Fuck.
That laugh grabs me right by the balls.
She leans in, kisses his cheek, and tugs on his sleeve like she doesn’t want to let go.
A pit opens in my stomach.
He tosses the groceries in a car.
I note the tag.
Because if he’s linked with her, he could be tied to Vitaly.
But more so because who the fuck is he to her?
He walks her to her car.
Another fucking kiss.
Then she’s off.
So I follow.
Again.
Because there’s something off here.
Because she’s adorable.
Disarming.
Designed to be underestimated.
