Page 22 of Unexpectedly Falling
“Yeah, but not from me.”
She hums and I swear we’re not just talking about the shed. My dickdefinitelydoesn’t think we’re talking about the shed.
Now’s not the time, but I can’t help running through the last year in my head—when was the last time I got laid?
I’d met her cousin in Nashville on the last night of a training. I’d opted to go out rather than drive home and take an early shift. Scarletthad been fun, and the night of anonymity had been exhilarating.
But at what cost?
A woman had lost her life because of a one-night stand where she didn’t even know the guy’s name.
My name.
And while I couldn’t regret the baby sleeping down the hall, it was still surreal and heartbreaking at the same time.
“I never asked how you found me,” I say, effectively killing the easy banter between us.
“Scarlett had a picture of the two of you on her phone. I did the rough math and then searched back through her photos and took a chance. The woman who had been Scarlett’s nurse said she’d confided some details about the night you met, and while they were limited, she said that you were in law enforcement. The logo on your shirt was from The Iron Cask and I justdid some detective work.” She smirks. “Your picture on the department’s website is rather charming.”
My cheeks heat because this woman justdoessomething to me. She’s almost a decade younger than I am and while that shouldn’t be a big deal, it feels like a lifetime.
She’s out there playing the field both literally and figuratively—and she should. She’s gorgeous and talented and fucking incredible.
But it doesn’t make our realities any different.
We’re from two different worlds—married to our jobs—but when her time here is over, she’ll go back to Nashville without a second thought.
“Well, if you’re looking for a retirement gig let me know,” I say, forcing as much amusement into my tone as I can manage. Because honestly, I’m more than a little impressed.
“Sleuthing isn’t really my passion, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
Remi fusses on the monitor and Nessa’s eyes track to the little screen, a sweet smile on her face as she watches her wrestle an arm free from the swaddle.
“How about you get changed and I’ll grab her and order dinner?”
Her gaze snaps to mine like she forgot she wasn’t alone.
“Sure,” she says, backing away, her gaze still locked on mine. “Remember what I said, Sheriff.”
“You’ve said a lot of things, Miss Hart.”
“I have,” she says slowly, “but you’re looking at me like you could fall for me, and that’s a dealbreaker.”
“You’re bein’ presumptuous again.”
“Just observant.”
“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on this one.” I nod toward the hall. “Go change, take some time to settle in.”
She stops…stalling…like she wants to have the last word but there’s nothing left to say. Turning on her heel, she disappearsdown the hall, and I heave out a breath when I hear her door close.
Because she’s right.
And I have to remember it’s wrong.
11
JENSEN
