Page 62 of Hidden Hero

The sharp buzz of the toaster oven broke the spell, and they both jumped, laughing as they pulled apart. Jeremy retrieved the toasted bread while Cora turned back to the stove and gave the chili a final stir.

“It’s ready,” she declared, her voice softer now, lighter.

As he set the bread on a plate, she rose onto her toes and whispered against his ear, “To be continued.”

Jeremy’s grin was pure mischief. “Oh, yeah, babe. You can count on it.”

They sat together at the kitchen counter, enjoying the spicy chili and toasted bread. Their conversation meandered through lighthearted topics, with Cora steering clear of anything too graphic about her work. She was used to discussing autopsies and forensic details even while eating, but she knew that wasn’t everyone’s idea of casual dinner chat.

The food Jeremy had prepared was delicious—a hearty meal with just the right amount of spice and comfort. As they finished, Cora pushed her plate away and leaned back slightly, her fingers curling around the stem of her wineglass. She sipped the rich flavor, which warmed her as much as the man beside her.

Turning to face him more fully, she furrowed her brow slightly in thought. “I understand the effects of drugs on the body,” she began, her tone contemplative, “and I know the criminal intent behind it all. But how does stealing medication from the elderly make someone money? I mean, they can’t take the drugs themselves, so they’d have to sell them, right?”

Jeremy nodded, his expression darkening slightly, the lines around his mouth tightening. “You’re absolutely right. But if what we’ve uncovered is just the tip of the iceberg, it’s going to go much deeper than we’d like to imagine.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “Deeper? You mean beyond our two little counties here in Virginia?”

“It’s highly unlikely this is isolated to just our area,” he explained, his voice calm but tinged with the weight of experience. “This could easily be a small cog in a much larger operation. We’re talking multistate, organized crime.”

Cora’s lips parted in surprise, her mind racing to piece together the implications. “We’re just seeing the bottom rung of the ladder. Whoever’s getting the drugs here is passing them up the chain, right? Are you thinking gang activity?”

Jeremy’s gaze was steady. “It’s possible. Our captain has us already working with the state police, FBI, and DEA to see if they’ve noticed similar patterns elsewhere.”

The thought of such a vast, calculated operation tightened Cora’s chest. She exhaled slowly, shaking her head as he continued.

“If this is as big as we think, the people at the top won’t even feel the loss if we shut things down here.” Jeremy reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against hers as she sighed again. The gesture was brief but grounding. “We can only tackle what’s in front of us, Cora. If we can stop this from happening in our counties, that’s a win. And with the evidence we gather, we’ll make sure the DEA and FBI have everything they need to hopefully take down more.”

Her heart softened at the quiet resolve in his voice. Jeremy carried the weight of his badge with such quiet strength, and it made her chest ache with admiration. She stood and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a small container. “I brought over a couple of pieces of pie I made earlier,” she said, glancing at him with a soft smile. “I thought about stopping by Bess’s Bakery, but she’d already closed. Her pastries are amazing, but I figured homemade would do in a pinch.”

Jeremy chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Bess’s stuff is great. No argument there. But a pie you made? Babe, that makes it ten times better.”

The endearment sent a pleasant warmth through her chest. She sliced the pie and served it, the scent of spiced apples and buttery crust filling the kitchen. Jeremy’s groan of approval after the first bite was as satisfying as any compliment she’d ever received.

“This is amazing,” he said, his grin wide as he took another bite. “I’ve had plenty of treats from Bess’s Bakery, but this pie? It’s fucking amazing.”

Cora grinned, feeling oddly pleased. “It’s not quite Bess’s Bakery-level, but anything with a flaky crust, gooey apples, and sugar sprinkled on top is a good mood booster.”

Jeremy’s gaze softened as he watched her. “I think I like it even more because you made it.”

Her cheeks warmed under his steady, sincere gaze. The heaviness of their earlier conversation faded for a moment, replaced by the simple joy of sharing a meal and a quiet evening together. In that kitchen, with laughter and the taste of cinnamon lingering on their tongues, the world outside seemed less overwhelming.

After dinner, they moved to the living room, where Tommy Girl played with a toy mouse, much to Cora’s amusement. “I need to get Max and Mia over for a cat playdate.” She scrunched her nose. “I don’t even know if that’s a thing.”

He laughed. “Anytime you want to bring them over, you can.”

“Same for you. If Tommy Girl needs some company, bring her to my place for the day.”

He lifted a brow. “Or what about for a night?”

She tried to pinch her lips together to stifle her grin, but it slipped out anyway. “Just Tommy Girl for the night?”

“Oh no. She might get lonely. So I think staying would also be right for me.”

She snuggled closer, then threw her leg over his lap. With their faces so close, she gently nuzzled his nose with hers. “I definitely think it would be right for you to stay in case your cat gets scared in a new place.”

“What about you? Would you stay?”

“Are we speaking hypothetically? If my cats were here, would I stay?” she asked, her voice soft yet teasing as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her fingers traced slow, feather-light patterns along the trimmed hair at the nape of his neck, savoring the texture. Leaning in, she kissed the corner of his mouth, feeling the low rumble rise from his chest like a distant storm.

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