He nods once. “After the tattoo parlor. After we made things permanent but before they were final.”
My grip tightens at his neck, desire throbbing between my legs. His hand presses more firmly at my waist. “I need more final,” I whisper. “Need it with you.”
His answer is a deep-chested growl. His mouth takes mine, and we move slowly and deliberately, as if we have all the time in the world. As if I don’t need to make the call or leave.
My pulse stutters hard. “Donovan,” I breathe.
Another memory hits harder this time.
The way he held me, and how I held him back. The thing we created together… the longing and reverence between us.
I pull in a breath against his mouth. “This is still a bad idea,” I whisper.
“Yeah, but we don’t need all the answers tonight. We just need each other.”
His hand shifts. My fingers tighten. The music keeps playing—slow and steady. Like it’s waiting for us to decide what this is.
What we are.
I don’t.
Because I can’t.
But I don’t step back either.
Chapter
Twelve
DONOVAN
The phone cuts through the room, sharp and wrong.
Everything in me snaps toward it.
Work. It has to be.
“Dammit,” I mutter, pulling back from her just enough to reach for it, already knowing even before I check the screen.
It’s Kurt, from the station.
“Chief,” I answer.
“Lane.” I don’t look at her while I listen. “Brush fire. East ridge. Winds picking up. They need bodies. They need them now.”
“I’m on my way.”
I end the call and set the phone down for half a second, long enough to catch a breath. “Gonna need you to hold that thought, Marielle. Fire on the east ridge. I have to go.”
“East ridge? But that’s a whole other county. How can they?—”
“Have to go. They need more hands. But—” I lean in, kissing her hard. “I’ll be back before you know it. And you’ll be safe while I’m gone.” I head into the back, returning with a handgun. “Know how to use this?” I ask.
She nods, her face paling. “Keep the doors locked. Phone on you. Sheriff’s number’s on the fridge. Neighbor’s, too.” I standthere wanting to say so much more. But these calls never come in when it’s convenient.
Then I move—boots, shirt, bag, keys. All muscle memory, automatic.
This part of me doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t question or slow down.
