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“But I’ve never been on a stakeout.”

I turn fully toward her. “And you’re not on one tonight.”

She smiles. It's the same fucking smile she wore before climbing into my life and refusing to get out.

“What part of this looks optional?”

“The part where I'm already sitting here.”

I stare at her.

She reaches down and opens the bag.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Snacks.”

I blink.

She pulls out a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

“You brought snacks.”

“I was planning to stake out your house.”

“That sentence isn't helping.”

“I didn't know I'd find a better stakeout.”

“This isn't a better stakeout.”

“It is from where I'm sitting.”

“You don't even know what I'm doing.”

“You're watching that house.” Callie points through the windshield.

I grab her wrist and lower it. “Don't.”

She looks down at my hand. I haven’t let go of her. Even though I should.

“Don't what?” Her voice is low. Slightly breathy.

“Point.”

Her smile disappears. Her eyes flick toward Mercer’s place. “Oh. Is someone dangerous in that house?”

“Don't look directly at it. Don't point at it. Don't do anything that makes it obvious we're watching.”

Her eyes flick toward the windshield. “Okay.”

I release her wrist.

She lowers her voice even more. “Is this a real stakeout?”

“Not for you.”

“Roman.”