She finished her first burger in four bites, then licked the grease from her thumb and looked at me, eyes green as glass. “You look like shit,” she said. “Long day?”
I smiled, a crack in the armor. “Long week.”
She gestured at my cut, which I’d slung over the back of the chair. “You go straight from the club?”
I nodded, not meeting her eyes. “They were voting on something.”
“Something important?”
I finished my beer, set it down. “Yeah.”
She waited, then said, “You don’t have to tell me.”
I wanted to. Or maybe I just wanted to know how much she already guessed.
“It’s about the Sultans,” I said. “They’re making a move. Damron wants us to shutit down.”
She winced, like I’d said something obscene. “Violence?”
“It’s all we have left,” I said, and hated how true it sounded.
Sergeant’s ears twitched at the edge in my voice, but Emily just watched me, calm and unsparing. “Are you in danger?”
I shrugged. “Not more than usual.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I chewed a fry, let the salt scrape a groove into my tongue. “If something happens, I’ll handle it.”
She leaned in, elbows on the Formica. “I know you will. But you’re not invincible, Dean.”
I looked at my hands, the lines of dirt under my nails, the way the callus on my thumb never quite healed. “Nobody is.”
We ate a little more. She kept glancing at the velvet pouch on the table, trying not to stare. I waited until she finished her second beer, then slid it across to her, the color of old bruises in the low light.
“What’s this?” she asked.
I shrugged, felt my cheeks heat. “Just open it.”
She untied the string, slow, like she was afraid it would explode. When she tipped the contents into her palm, the necklace pooled there, a thread-thin chain with a silver pawprint charm. She turned it over, eyes wide, then brushed the fingers of her free hand to the spot behind her ear where her own tattoo lived.
“You remembered,” she said, voice soft.
I nodded, unable to speak. I watched her as she held it up to the light, then set her hair aside and tried to clasp it one-handed.
“Here,” I said, standing behind her. My hands were too big for the tiny clasp, but she held still, the back of her neck warm and tense under my fingers. When I finally got it latched, she let out a breath I didn’t know she’d been holding.
I let my hand rest on her shoulder for a second, then pulled away.
She turned, necklace glittering at her throat. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s perfect.”
I looked away, feeling more naked than I ever had with her. “I thought you might like it.”
She touched the charm, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. “Is this what passes for romance, then? Takeout and a trinket?”
I tried to laugh, but it came out cracked. “I guess so. Never was any good at the fancy stuff.”
She stood, closed the distance, and pressed her lips to my jaw, just below the fresh nick where I’d cut myself shaving. She tasted like chili and beer and relief.
