“Why was he here?” Emerson asked, his voice calmer than what Dash sensed he was.
Dash’s first instinct was to tell Emerson to fuck off once more—but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself from answering.
“Jackson’s come to help me with the investigation—at the direction of the Black Guard. I was late because I was reviewing the intel he’d gathered. When I noticed the time, I told him I was late to a meeting with an informant. He offered to come as my backup, but I refused. I told him I was covered, but he apparently followed me anyway,” Dash said before realizing there was another tracker on him somewhere. He searched his pockets again.
“Whatare you doing?”
“He put a tracker on me,” Dash said. “It’s how he found me.” When he came up empty, he glanced at his car. “Or maybe it’s not on me.” He knelt and searched the closest wheel well. On the third, he found the tracker. Growling, he hurled it into the water.
“You two seem pretty close,” Emerson said, shoving his hands in his pockets as Dash walked closer.
There was a hint of accusation in his voice, butthe barestof hints.
Dash inhaled and almost wished he hadn’t. Emerson’s scent was overpowering. It left him feeling shaky.
“Wewereclose. Not intimate, but going on dangerous ops as a small team, you get close to the men you work with. You have to trust them with your life. Lines can get blurred, but I never crossed the line with Jackson.”
“Did he cross one with you?”
Dash froze. After a couple of seconds, he shook his head. “No.”
“You called the name Jackson when you were having your nightmare,” Emerson said, pinning him with a stare.
Dash’s eyes widened. “I did?”
“Did he hurt you?” Emerson asked, simmering anger clear in his voice.
Another tremor went down Dash’s spine.“No!”
Emerson searched his face, silent.
“He didn’t,” Dash said. “In fact, he saved me from being hurt.” Dash stared down at the ground, trying to calm his shaking body. “Him and Mason.”
“Are you okay?” Emerson asked, the anger gone from his voice. It was replaced with concern.
Dash lifted his shaking hands.
He wasn’t okay.
He realized that reaction he’d had the first time with Emerson—it had suddenly returned. Why now? What had triggered it?
There wasn’t time for questions, though.
“You need to get me back on the boat and pull away from the marina,” Dash said, struggling to breathe.
Emerson closed the gap between them, grasping Dash’s arm with alarm in his expression. But as soon as he was inches away, another growl came.
His alpha had caught wind.
“We have to go,” Dash whispered, panic sending him over the edge. “Or we’re going to be caught.”
Emerson lowered his head, scenting Dash. The tip of his nose rubbed just under his ear and sent a spiral of need through him. Dash turned his head, pressing his nose against Emerson’s shoulder and inhaling.
The need took hold.
He couldn’t allow it. Not yet.
“Emerson!”Dash barked before lurching a few steps away. “Get the files from the front seat… and then we go back to the boat.Now!”
