Page 16 of Lone Star Showdown

That didn’t exactly ease any of the tension on Rachel’s face. Then again, it was just words. From her ex, no less. Hopefully though, she would hold onto one huge fact.

That her ex could deliver.

On something like this anyway.

Clearly, he hadn’t followed through on giving Rachel what she needed for them to still be a couple. Then again, she could say the same thing.

His phone dinged with a report he’d been waiting for just as Bree finished her call. Jericho didn’t open the report but pinned his attention on Bree.

“The ME got an immediate hit on the prints. The dead guy is Levi Bodine from Bulverde. Do either of you know him?” Bree added.

“No,” Jericho said after he gave it some thought, and Rachel soon followed with her own shake of the head.

“Who is he?” Rachel asked as Jericho was already in the process of running a background check through Maverick Ops’ databases.

“He’s an out of work handyman,” Bree provided, reading from her notes. “Age forty-three.”

“The same age as Paulie,” Jericho muttered though he didn’t see any immediate link between Paulie and Bodine in his initial search.

Bree made a sound of agreement, no doubt mentally tapping into the full account of the situation Jericho and Rachel had given her. “Obviously, Bodine has a record, and that’s why there was a quick hit on the prints. He’s, was, on parole for breaking and entering.” She checked the time. “Once Paulie and his daughter are here, I’ll ask them about it. You’ll be able to listen from observation,” she offered.

Bree’s phone rang before she could say more, and her face lit up when she saw the name on the screen. “It’s Rafe,” she relayed, already getting up. “He should be finishing up an assignment, and I want to talk to him. I’ll take the call in the breakroom,” she added, heading out of the office and closing the door behind her.

Jericho welcomed the private moment and went with a question Rachel might not have wanted to answer in front of others. “How are you really holding up?”

Rachel opened her mouth as if to give him a pat response and then sighed. “Not well. I’m terrified for Tilda and my kids. I’m really pissed off that someone is doing this. And I’m sick to my stomach that people have died for doing their jobs.”

Hell. He’d known she was feeling all of that, and words weren’t going to hack it this time. He stood, went to her and pulled her to her feet so he could gather her in his arms. That wasn’t a cure-all either.

Or so he thought.

Then, he heard the soft sound Rachel made. Relief mixed with all that worry. So, not a cure all but not the mistake a hug could have turned out to be.

The problem with a hug is that it put them body to body, and that brought the memories. So many of them. They’d not only been each other’s first for sex, they hadn’t dated or been with anyone else until after college. Six years. That was a fairly long time to be lovers.

And his body wasn’t going to let him forget it.

Jericho didn’t want to forget it, but he didn’t want the lust playing into this. Not when Rachel clearly just needed some TLC.

She eased back her head from where it’d landed against his neck, and she looked up at him. Yeah, the emotions were right there in her eyes. Maybe regret, too, that this hug was crossing over into dangerous sexual waters. He expected her to take a big step back.

She didn’t.

Rachel stunned him, probably stunned herself, too, by brushing her mouth over his. Coming from any other woman, it would have barely qualified as a kiss. Coming from Rachel, it packed a hot punch.

His body began to suggest all sorts of things.

Thankfully, his brain was still functioning so he ignored the suggestions and went tit for tat. He touched his mouth to hers, too, and he was pleased when she smiled. It was short-lived and laced with more than a smidge of doubt, but he’d take a smile any day from Rachel.

“Well, we got that out of the way,” she concluded. “That means kissing and stuff don’t have to occupy our thoughts.”

“You’d think,” he commented. They both knew that was BS though. Thoughts of her were duly occupying his brain and especially the idiot part of him behind the zipper of his pants.

Jericho might have just kissed her again if they hadn’t been saved by a ding of his phone. It was a sound to indicate an incoming report. Something that had to take priority over kissing Rachel.

For now, anyway.

Future kissing would almost certainly happen. Well, unless they were so caught up in running for their lives. And Jericho didn’t intend for things to come down to that.

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