I dressed in the spare clothes I kept in the closet—black jeans, a sleeveless red blouse that always made me feel put together, black ballet flats. I added a black blazer from the hanger on the back of the door in case Jack needed me for interviews later. A little concealer took care of the dark circles under my eyes, a swipe of mascara and some lip gloss finished the job.
The woman in the mirror looked like someone ready to face the rest of the day. Maybe even someone ready for a glass of wine and some of Rosa’s enchiladas.
I grabbed my bag and stepped out of my office to find Jack leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze traveled from my face down to my toes and back up again, slow and appreciative, that familiar heat sparking in his dark eyes.
“Well, hey there,” he said, his voice dropping into that low register that still made my stomach flip after all these years. “You clean up nice, Dr. Graves.”
“Flattery will get you another shower session, Sheriff.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” He pushed off the counter and crossed to me, his hands finding my hips like they belonged there. “You know what I wish? I wish we could skip everything else tonight and just go home. Order takeout. Eat in bed. Naked.”
“Mmm.” I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him through his shirt. “I could be persuaded.”
“Yeah?” He dipped his head, his lips brushing the curve of my neck.
I let my head fall back, giving him better access, a soft moan escaping as his mouth found that spot just below my ear. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Never claimed to.” His teeth grazed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re killing me.” I pulled back just enough to look at him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “The faster we notify next of kin the faster we can get home.”
“I thought you wanted Rosa’s,” he said.
“I’d rather have you.”
He kissed me once more—slow and thorough, the kind of kiss that made promises—then stepped back and offered me his hand. “All right, Dr. Graves. Let’s go to work.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Jack took one look at me as we climbed into the Tahoe and frowned. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I had cookies.”
“Cookies.”
“Emmy Lu left them on the counter. Snickerdoodles.”
“That’s not food, Jaye. That’s sugar and carbs.” He started the engine but didn’t put it in gear. “What else?”
I thought about it. “Water?”
“For the love of—” He shook his head and pulled out of the parking lot, but instead of heading toward the address Cole had texted him for Andre’s mother, he turned left onto Main Street.
“Where are we going?”
“To get you actual food. You’re growing a human being. You can’t do that on snickerdoodles.”
“The baby likes snickerdoodles.”
“The baby doesn’t get a vote yet.”
Ten minutes later, we were parked in the lot of Taco Loco, a little hole-in-the-wall place on the edge of Bloody Mary that had been serving the best tacos in King George County for as long as I could remember. Jack ordered through the window—carnitas tacos for both of us, rice and beans on the side—and we ate right there in the parking lot with the AC blasting and the windows up.
“Better?” he asked after I’d demolished my first taco.
“Much.” I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Thank you.”
“Someone’s got to take care of you when you forget to take care of yourself.”
