Nicole got to her feet. She was opening the climbing gym tomorrow morning and needed to get up early. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just curl up on my recliner with a cup of tea and stream something until I get sleepy.”
While Sasha looked through her assortment of herbal teas, Nicole got her things together, set them by the front door, and then leashed Mocha. “I get off tomorrow at two. I’ll check on you then.”
Sasha set her box of chamomile tea on the counter and walked over to give Nicole a careful hug. “Thanks, Nic. You’re the best.”
“Try not to worry about him, okay? Julia said he was okay… Oh. He’shere.”
Sasha’s heart missed a beat. She looked outside, saw Darius walking up the path to her front door.
“I’ll get out of your way.” Nicole picked up her bag, opened the door, and led Mocha outside. “Hey, Detective Silva. We heard what happened. Sasha has been worried sick about you.”
Darius’ gaze met Sasha’s. “I’m okay, really.”
Sasha held the door open for him. “Thanks, Nicole. Have a good night.”
“See you tomorrow.” Nicole made her way down the steps, Mocha darting about on her leash. “Mocha! You’re going to get us tangled, girl.”
Sasha closed the door, locked it, and for a few heartbeats, she stood there face to face with Darius, their gazes locked. She wasn’t sure who took the first step, but in the next moment, she was in his arms, holding him as tightly as she was able.
He sucked in a breath, stiffened. “Easy.”
Sasha stepped back, saw lines of pain on his face. “You’re hurt.”
“My body armor held, but the rounds left big bruises.”
“Go sit on the sofa and take off your shirt. I’ll get an ice pack.”
Sasha half expected him to object, but he didn’t. While she grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, he took off his jacket and boots and pulled his T-shirt over his head, his back turned toward her as he walked barefoot to the sofa.
She wrapped the ice pack in a linen dish towel and walked over to him. What she saw stopped her, made her stomach knot. “Oh, my God.”
The left side of his chest had two angry bruises, each the size of her palm with a raw, red center.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. No cracked ribs.”
Sasha sat beside him, pressed the ice bag gently against the bruises. “Not as bad as it looks? You could have been killed, and it would have been my fault.”
To her surprise, Darius laughed. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t pull the trigger.”
“No, but you were there to arrest them on my behalf.”
“This isn’t on you, Sasha.”
“If I hadn’t outed Riggs in public—”
Darius caught her chin, lifted her gaze to his. “It’snotyour fault.”
Sasha looked into his stormy gray eyes, and this time she heard him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah, me, too. I wasn’t sure for a moment whether my vest had held.”
“What happened?”
As he recounted his afternoon, Sasha noticed what she hadn’t before. The muscular curve of his shoulders. Strong biceps. The dusting of dark curls on well-defined pecs. Flat, brown nipples. His abs. The trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.
She was so taken by him that she lost track of what he was telling her. “Wait… You’re saying that Riggs warned his friend?”
