Page 14 of Claimed By the Deputies

“It’s our job,” Paul says, then gives me an apologetic nod. “Again, I’m sorry this happened to you. But you’re alive and well, and that’s all that matters.”

By the timeevening settles in, I’m much calmer.

Cleaner and drier, too, courtesy of the ensuite in my guestroom. I’m wearing one of Lucas’s white tees and a pair of Frost Valley grey sweatpants, which stretch a bit more around my butt and thighs than they probably do around his, but I like the feel of the soft cotton against my skin. It’s a much-needed comfort.

“Can I come in?” Lucas’s voice reverberates from the hallway.

I’m staring at myself in the wall mounted mirror next to an antique wooden dresser. My blonde hair is pulled into a loose bun, several wet locks stuck to the back of my neck. I don’t have any energy left to do a proper blow-dry, and besides, I doubt the guys even own a blow dryer. Mine is now a pile of ashes.

“Sure,” I reply.

He pokes his head through the door. “Everything okay?”

“Thank you, yes.” I slowly turn around to face him. “Thank you for the clothes, too. Maybe we can find something left at my place.”

“We’ll go in the morning and check.” He brings a tray in, which he sets on the chest of drawers next to the door. “I brought youa little something to eat. Figured you could use some carbs after everything that’s happened.”

“That’s so thoughtful,” I tell him.

My mouth is already watering at the sight of maple-syrup-glazed pastries and a bowl of fresh fruit, next to a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice. Lucas takes a moment to look at me.

“It’s weird, I know,” he says.

“What’s weird?”

“Having to share a space with strangers. But the situation demands it. And I’m sure you’re aware that you can trust us with your safety.”

“I never had a doubt.”

Safety is the least of my concerns. What does worry me is the electricity in the air that sparks between us when we’re in the same room. I’ve been getting that vibe at the police station, too. Every time Lucas walks into the evidence room, it becomes harder for me to breathe, and my heart starts racing. There’s definitely a sexual tension, the kind that will turn me to cinder if I’m not careful.

“Have a seat if you want,” I point to the chair next to the chest of drawers. “There’d be a pile of clothes to move if this was my place.”

He laughs as he sits down. I like the sound; it’s gruff and light at the same time, making my skin tingle all over.

“I know this can’t be easy,” Lucas says softly.

“It could always be worse, right?”

“It could.”

“I’m lucky to have you as my neighbor.”

Lucas draws a deep breath. “So what exactly brought you to Frost Valley?”

“Don’t I already have the job?” I ask, nervously chuckling. My past is the one thing I fiercely keep to myself. I am not proud of the choices I’ve made, and to this day, I still believe there were things I could’ve—and should’ve—done differently.

“This isn’t an interview. I’m just trying to get to know you,” Lucas says with a grin.

“You have my file. Pretty sure the fine folks at New Beginnings gave you a clear picture of what went down.”

“They did. But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Of how I ended up in Frost Valley all the way from the big city.”

He nods once.

I’m still surprised I was able to trade New York City for a quiet life in the mountains. There was a time when I simply couldn’t imagine myself being anywhere but in the concrete jungle. I thrived in the hustle and bustle of downtown, in the plethora of smells and street food flavors. The world was my orange tree, each fruit a boundless possibility.

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