"And you are?..." she shoots back, clearly trying to wrestle control of this interrogation away from me.
"Gabriel Maddox. Sheriff Gabriel Maddox." I let the title hang in the air between us like a challenge.
"Well,SheriffMaddox." She loads my title with just enough sarcasm to make it sound like an insult, which should piss me off but instead makes something warm and dangerous spread in my gut. "What happens now? You're going to slap cuffs on me for the heinous crime of giving a damn about innocent animals?"
My mouth betrays me with the ghost of a smile before I can stop it.
There's something about her particular brand of courage, standing there spitting defiance at me while terror practically radiates off her in waves, that's working its way under my skin and setting up permanent residence.
"Caring about animals isn't a crime, Lucy Reid." I let her fake name roll off my tongue like I'm tasting it for lies. "But trespassing is. So is fleeing an officer."
We lock eyes across the small space, and the air between us practically vibrates with tension. Part challenge, part attraction, all dangerous as hell. She's got the nerve to go toe-to-toe with a sheriff when she's clearly got more secrets than a CIA black site.
It should trigger every alarm bell I own. Instead, I'm fascinated by the way she refuses to back down, the way she meets my stare like she's got nothing to lose and everything to prove.
"Look." I hear my voice soften without permission.
Something about the way she's standing there, defiant but fragile, fierce but clearly running on fumes, triggers every protective instinct I thought I'd buried with my military career.
"You did the right thing. That dog's alive because you gave a damn when it mattered." I see her shoulders drop with relief.
"Thank you," she whispers, and the gratitude in those two words does something to my chest that should probably worry me.
The examination room door opens, and Colt emerges, wiping his hands on a towel. There is something in his expression when he looks at her that makes my jaw clench.
"How is he?" she asks immediately.
"Stable. Needs surgery, but he is going to make it," Colt says, and his smile widens at her obvious relief. "Someone used a knife on him, but they missed anything vital. Full recovery."
"Thank God." The words come out like a prayer, and I watch some of the tension finally drain from her frame.
"I'm Colt, by the way." He extends his hand, and there's nothing professional about the warmth in his voice now. "Colt Mercer. And you're the guardian angel who saved Dusty's life."
I track their interaction like a sniper watching a target, noting how Colt's voice drops into that low register he uses when he's interested, how his eyes linger on her face like he's trying to memorize it.
"Lucin… Lucy Reid," She slides her hand into his, and I don't miss the way her voice steadies when she says the fake name.
"I just did what anyone would do."
"Not anyone." Colt doesn't release her hand. At all. The handshake stretches into something that looks suspiciously like hand-holding, both of them locked in eye contact like they've forgotten I'm standing three feet away.
I clear my throat with enough force to rattle windows.
My throat-clearing finally breaks whatever spell they're under. Colt's expression snaps back to professional, though his hand lingers another heartbeat before releasing hers.
"Right. Surgery. Dusty can't wait much longer."
"Of course. Go." She waves him away, but there's reluctance in the gesture that makes something territorial and ugly twistin my gut.
Colt makes it halfway to the door before stopping, turning back with that cocky half-smile I know means trouble.
"For what it's worth, you did exactly the right thing. Despite what Gabriel might have said about proper procedure. Rules be damned."
I feel my jaw tighten at the obvious dig.
"He is just doing his job," Lucy says, and there is something in her tone I cannot quite read.
"Yeah, well, sometimes the job gets in the way of doing what is right." Colt says it with the edge of someone who's never been impressed by badges or protocol.
