She glanced up, but it was an extra beat before she actually saw him. After hurrying over, she threw her arms around him, and held him close. This was where he needed to be. Here, with this woman.
His woman.
“I missed you,” he murmured, letting the last remaining anxiety float away.
Something was wrong. The spark in her eyes had been replaced with concern.
“I missed you, too. I’m relieved you’re home.” She hesitated for a split second. “I’ve got a few things to update you on. Have you eaten? Are you hungry? Do you want—”
“Whoa, slow down.” He brushed her bangs off her face, dipped down, and kissed her. Her kiss was tight and over too soon.
Something was definitely wrong.
Her phone rang. She broke away. “It’s Luther. I’ve gotta take this.” She answered. “Luther, thank you for calling me back. I have an HR issue, but the only number I have is yours…well, I don’t want to bother—” She paused. “I have a new bank account number for direct deposit and a starter pack of checks. Will that work?” She fished the checks from her handbag. “Thanks again,” she said and hung up.
He studied her while she snapped a picture of the check. Her brow was furrowed, the worry in her eyes hard to miss. “What’s going on?”
“One sec while I text this to Luther.” When finished, she painted on a tight smile. “How ‘bout something to eat?”
He wrapped his arm around her and guided her to the sofa. As he sat, he pulled her onto his lap. “I missed the hell out of you. You’re a million miles away. We’re homealone. All I want to do is carry you upstairs and deposit you on my bed where I can help you relax away all that tension.”
“I’m fine.” She pursed her lips.
“This,” he pointed from her to him, “is a relationship. We’re partners. Talk to me.”
She stared into his eyes. “I jumped online this morning and saw that the Portland press is all over Hill’s death.” She stroked his shoulder, sending energy streaming through him. “I read that there were two women being held captive and the person responsible for killing him kept the women safe. You’re being hailed a hero.”
“I’m no hero. I’m one of the bad guys.”
She hugged him. “I’m sorry. I’m here now. We can go upstairs if you want.”
“Of course, I want to love my woman.”
Her eyes widened. “Your woman?”
“Hell, yeah.” He kissed her, letting his tongue swirl with hers. She was holding back, and she wasn’t okay, so he didn’t budge off the sofa. “But first, you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
“The guy who broke into my apartment stole my bank info. He hacked into my account, did an electronic transfer, and wiped me out.”
Anger coursed through him. “No fucking way.”
“I filed a claim with my bank, but they might not be able to get my money back. I had to ask my dad for a loan so I could pay my mortgage this month. I’m furious, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” She broke eye contact and let out a frustrated breath. Then, her gaze reconnected with his. He hated seeing the disappointment in her eyes, the worry lines etched between her brows.
With one phone call, he could deposit enough money to pay off her entire mortgage. But she didn’t ask him for help, so, he kept quiet.
“I’d made some progress on our case, then I got slammed with this, but that’s nothing when compared to what you’ve been through,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m being selfish. How areyoudoing?”
“I’m fine, but you aren’t. Let me help you.”
“No, I’ve got this. My brother felt so badly for me, even he gave me a few bucks.”
“Did you get the account number where the money was transferred?”
She pushed off his lap and fished the piece of paper out of her handbag.
“Stryker might be able to find your money.” He called Stryker.
“Busy,” Stryker answered. “Stop bothering me.”
