“I spent most of it visiting bridal shops. Both victims were wearing a similar dress. No one carries the designer, but someone suggested I check consignment stores. Supposedly, it was a popular style a few years back.”
Their moment of Zen, that brief escape, was fast behind them.Back to fucking reality. They cleaned up, dressed, and he shut down the computers.
Once outside, he walked her to her car. “I want to make sure you get home safely. I’ll follow you.”
“I’m a big girl, plus, I’ve got Pima to protect me.”
He dipped down and kissed her. “Call me when you get home.” He rubbed the back of his neck, but the stress of the day wouldn’t leave. “Today feels like a week. Is tomorrow Saturday?”
“Sure is.”
“I’ve got to check in with my team in the morning. After that, I’m free. You wanna keep working?”
“I don’t want to take up your weekend.”
He shot her a smile. “Yes, you do.”
“Wow, you are cocky.”
“You might want to spite fuck me again.”
She opened her car door and slipped inside. “You’ve got a point. Thanks for tonight.”
“Which part?”
“The whole enchilada.”
After she drove away, he hopped on his Fat Boy, pulled on his helmet, and took off in the opposite direction. As he rolled onto the main road, he regretted not following her home.
12
The Sleepover
With wine glass in hand, Emerson crawled into bed and sipped the smooth chardonnay. Pima hopped up beside her. As she petted him, her thoughts floated to Stryker. She hadn’t had sex in months and she’d never been so attracted to anyone, both physically and mentally.
Being a logic-based person, she wouldn’t read anything into the situation. They’d hooked up, twice. Period. As far as she was concerned, theirs was a convenience thing, for them both.
Emerson’s phone buzzed with an incoming text from Justice. “Hey, Boomslang. Checking in. How was your week?”
“Long,” she replied. “You?”
“Mixed bag,” he texted back. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Just got home from working late. About to hit the hay. You?”
“I went to an event this week to honor fallen officers in the DMV. It was well done.”
“No way! I was there. We could’ve said ‘Hey’ in person.”
“Maybe we did. I met a bunch of people,” he replied.
“Small world.”Should I ask him if he wants to get together for coffee?Stryker popped into her head.I forgot to call him.
“Were you at the event with a guest or date?”
Was Stryker a date? No, he wasn’t.“Neither. Why were you there?”
“Got invited,” he replied.
