Page 35 of Lone Star Wanted
“Somewhere around ‘Don’t talk to me unless you’re handing me a weapon,’” she grumbled.
He held her tighter.
It wasn’t just the shooting. It was everything. The uncertainty. The fear. The betrayal. Travis still missing. Becker possibly dirty. A shooter now dead before they could get a single name.
And every path they followed just seemed to twist into another dead end.
But they weren’t done.
Not yet.
Cassidy didn’t move, her cheek resting against his chest, breath slowing as the crash worked its way through her system. But after a moment, she spoke, voice low.
“How’s your adrenaline crash?” she asked.
Kincade gave a half-smile, still holding her close. “Manageable. Only seeing two of you now instead of three.”
She huffed a laugh against his shirt. “That’s comforting.”
“I thought so.”
She leaned back just enough to look up at him, her expression soft despite the shadows under her eyes. The edges of her lips lifted, just a hint of the woman he remembered from before all of this. Before it got so personal.
Her smile made something shift in his chest.
So he kissed her.
No warning. No asking.
Just leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, slow and firm, anchoring them both for one breath-stealing second in something that wasn’t fear or strategy or survival.
Something real.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, and the kiss changed.
What started as something steady and grounding turned sharp and hungry in a breath. Cassidy’s hand slid up his chest, gripping the front of his shirt, and Kincade’s control slipped like sand through his fingers.
A fistful of heat slammed into him.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow.
It was a punch that scalded, fast and fierce, like everything they hadn’t said was boiling over in a single second. Her lips opened under his, and he took the invitation without thinking. His hands slid to her hips, then her back, pulling her tighter, anchoring himself to the feel of her, to the taste of her.
Too hot. Too much. Especially here. Especially now. In the sheriff’s office, after a shootout, with the stink of gunpowder and blood still clinging to their clothes.
But Kincade didn’t stop.
Because for a moment, with her pressed against him and the world locked out, none of it mattered.
And he needed that.
Just like she did.
The sound of footsteps in the hall broke through the heat like a splash of cold water. Cassidy eased back first, her breathing a little unsteady, her lips still parted. Kincade took half a step away, running a hand through his hair as the knock came, followed by the creak of the door opening.
Sheriff Becker walked in, stone-faced, and right behind him was Marlene.
She looked smaller than before. Shoulders hunched, hair pulled back messily, no uniform today. Civilian clothes, pale and wrinkled like she hadn’t slept. Her eyes were red-rimmed with puffiness.
