He set the glasses down on the dock without looking away from her. The light skipping off the water caught her hair and reflected in her eyes. She was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her through the damp cotton. “Doc.” He warned with a half-smile.
She didn’t step back. “Are you always this bossy?”
“Only when I want someone alive.”
Her breath caught at his words. His hand came up, slow enough to give her time to stop him, as it settled at her waist. Her fingers slid higher along his ribs, not clinical now. The night pressed in around them as his head dipped. Their mouths hovered inches apart, close enough that he felt her breath against his lips.
Ding. Channel 16 crackled alive against his shoulder. “Roper?” Cal’s voice cut through the dark. “You still awake?”
Wyatt closed his eyes briefly as Letty laughed. He dropped his forehead to hers for half a second, just enough to feel. “Inside,” he muttered.
He clicked his radio as he followed her with the glasses in his hand. “Copy.”
Cal spoke. “Rhea found information about the Palmetto Royale. I emailed it to you.”
“Copy. See you in the morning.” Wyatt stepped into the cottage and dreaded what Rhea had found.
CHAPTER FOUR
WYATT
Letty inquired as they stepped out of the cottage. “Do you think Rhea will have more information?”
“She’s ex-Navy Intel. I’m sure she’s found more.” He pivoted at a noise in the marsh and picked up his pace to the Jeep sitting in the gravel pull-off, near the marsh road.
Letty had almost reached the passenger door as Wyatt spoke. “Stop.” He moved to her. His hand closed around her elbow, firm enough to halt her mid-step.
Letty blinked. “What…?”
Wyatt crouched, already scanning beneath the chassis. The sun glinted off something wrong. “Don’t move,” he said, voice low and controlled.
She froze.
The brake line hung loose beneath the Jeep, the cut clean enough to catch the morning light, and Wyatt’s jaw locked as the last piece slid into place.This was not vandalism, bad luck, or some random act. Someone had meant to trap them here.
“Wyatt?”
He straightened and met her gaze. “Someone doesn’t want us driving anywhere.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t panic. “How can you be sure?”
“The line was cut with something sharp.”
She absorbed the information like a researcher. “Is this linked to the boat fire?” Letty asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “And your investigation.”
She swallowed. “I haven’t shared that with just anyone.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Wyatt said. “Someone knows you have something.”
He pulled out his phone and snapped several photos before stepping back into her space without apology, close enough that she could feel the control in him, the kind that sharpened instead of frayed when danger got personal. “You’re not alone anymore, and that’s not negotiable.”
Her chin lifted. “You always this bossy?”
He met her stare. “You already know my answer.” Something flickered between them: heat, fear, something neither of them named. Wyatt motioned her back toward the cottage. “Pack essentials. We’re walking.”
LETTY
