Chapter 10
Dungar
Four days had passed since our kiss by the sorhox paddock, and I’d replayed every second of it at least a hundred times. The softness of Riley’s lips, the way she’d melted into me, the small sound she’d made when I’d deepened the kiss. All of it lived in my mind on constant repeat.
We hadn’t talked about it. Every morning when she arrived at the jail with two cups of coffee from Sel and Holly’s bakery, I opened my mouth to bring it up, then watched her settle into her desk and lost my nerve. She’d catch me staring sometimes, her face holding a speculative expression that made my heart race, but neither of us crossed that line into discussing what had happened.
Whatwashappening between us.
Because something definitely was happening. The way she leaned closer when we reviewed reports together, how her hand lingered when she passed me documents, and the soft smile that appeared whenevershe thought I wasn’t looking. They were all signs that the kiss had affected her as much as it had me.
I was falling for her. Hard and fast, and with the kind of intensity that would’ve terrified me if it didn’t feel so completely right. Every orc knew the stories of fated mates, the legends passed down through generations about finding the one person who completed your soul. I’d always assumed it was romantic nonsense until my brothers found true love.
Then Riley Smith strode into my life and turned everything upside down.
“Earth to Dungar.” Riley’s voice cut through my thoughts. She stood beside my desk, holding a stack of papers and wearing that amused expression that meant she’d caught me daydreaming. “You’ve been staring at that same page for ten minutes.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Sorry. Just reviewing the patrol schedule.”
“Uh-huh.” She perched on the edge of my desk, close enough that I caught her sweet feminine scent that made my chest tighten. “The patrol schedule that’s been the same for three days straight?”
“Consistency is important.” I tried to sound official instead of completely lost, which I actually was.
“Is that your answer for everything?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Consistency?”
“It works.”
“Does it work for this?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper that sent shivers across my skin. “Because I’ve been consistently thinking about Tuesdaynight, and I’m not sure your organizational skills can help with that.”
My breath caught. She was talking about the kiss. Finally.
Before I could respond, the jail door swung open with a bang, and Aunt Inla burst in, her face flushed and her silver hair escaping its usually perfect bun.
“There’s been another incident,” she cried out.
Riley smoothly slid off my desk and grabbed her phone, opening a document. “What kind of incident?”
“Vandalism. Someone spray-painted rude words on the side of the general store in broad daylight. Can you imagine the audacity?”
I stood, automatically reaching for my incident kit that included a camera, evidence bags, measurement tools, all organized in labeled compartments. “Any witnesses?”
“Nobody saw anything, but it must’ve happened between noon and two o’clock when I was at lunch. They’re quite bold to do this during the day.”
Riley and I exchanged glances. This was the third vandalism report in the past few days, all following the same pattern, including a midday timing, no witnesses, and crude but harmless graffiti.
“We’ll head over now.” I stood, slipping the kit into my jacket pocket. “Take photos, canvas for witnesses, and check the security cameras in the area.”
“I’ll handle the interviews,” Riley said. “Sometimes people remember details when they have time to think.”
Aunt Inla’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I know you two can take care of it. You work so well together.”
As she left, Riley grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. “Ready to solve the mystery of Lonesome Creek’s most polite vandal?”
“You think they’re being polite?”
“The graffiti could be much worse. Trust me.” Something shadowed her expression for a moment before she brightened again. “Plus, they’re using washable paint. That’s practically considerate.”
We walked the short distance to the general store, falling into the easy rhythm we’d developed over the past few days. Riley had a natural instinct for reading people and situations that complemented my methodical approach. While I documented everything, she drew information out of those in the area with casual conversation and genuine warmth.
