Page 42 of Bachelor Cop Finally Caught? (Hot off the Press! 2)

Even as he spoke into the palm-size phone, he was struck again by how understanding she was about the demands of his job. He didn’t know how long her patience would hold out if they got more involved. As reluctant as he was to compare Lindsey to his ex-wife, he couldn’t help remembering how deeply Melanie had come to resent his job.

He enjoyed his work—but, more than that, he felt obligated to it. It wasn’t a predictable, nine-to-five, five-days-a-week career: lawbreakers didn’t exactly keep banker’s hours. The chief of police of a small, understaffed city didn’t have the luxury of making plans well in advance or expecting uninterrupted evenings or weekends. Sure, it was basically a quiet town with few crimes on the whole, giving him quite a bit of free time under normal circumstances, but neither he nor anyone else could predict when those circumstances would change—like now, with this unprecedented string of arsons.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said in response to the urgent request on the other end of the line, and disconnected the call to look at Lindsey. He watched her face as he said, “It looks like I’m going to have to leave for a little while.”

There wasn’t a trace of disapproval in her expression when she nodded and replied, “I understand. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing new,” he assured her. “I just need to make an appearance, I think.”

It was true, of course. He did feel the need to check in at work, especially at such a stressful time for his staff. But maybe he was also running—retreating again from a potentially explosive exchange with Lindsey.

Glancing at the bandage

on her temple, he felt like a heel for letting his cowardice reverse his resolve to take the day off and help her out today. “You’re sure you’ll be okay on your own for a little while? Maybe I should call someone to come sit with you—I bet Marjorie Schaffer would come. The diner’s closed by now.”

“Marjorie has other things to do, and I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Lindsey argued mildly. “I’ll be fine, Dan. Actually, that pain pill is making me a little sleepy. I’ll probably take a nap.”

“But—”

“If I need anything, I know your cell number,” she reminded him. “You’d come running if I called, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“There you are, then. Go earn your salary and keep the mayor happy. And let me know if there are any new developments in either the arsons or Eddie Stamps’s disappearance, will you?”

“Sure.” Reluctantly, he stood. “You’ll call if you need me? Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

He was finding it surprisingly hard to leave her. “Do you need anything before I go? Some juice? Something else to eat?”

“I’m fine. Go.”

He leaned over, intending to brush a kiss across her bruised forehead. A nice, platonic, friendly, sympathetic gesture, he told himself. He didn’t know if she just happened to tilt her head at the right moment or if maybe his own aim was the culprit, but the kiss landed on her lips instead.

And lingered.

For a first real kiss in more than five years, it felt amazingly familiar. Their lips met smoothly, without awkwardness or fumbling, and the sense of sheer rightness was almost overwhelming. As was the rush of hunger that swiftly followed.

Her arms went up and around his neck. She tightened them just a little, as if to pull him down to her—and he almost went along. He could have had her beneath him easily enough, her body sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, his covering her…and, oh, man, did he want that…but he had work to do. At least, that made a safe, convenient excuse.

He still wasn’t convinced that being with Lindsey was wise—and he still didn’t know which of them was most in danger of being hurt if they tried and failed. But he was beginning to wonder if they had gone too far now to go back to the way things had been before.

He pulled away slowly. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“There’s a key in the flowerpot on the right side of the door if I’m asleep when you come back,” she said, her gaze locked with his.

He cleared his throat. “We’ll talk about the recklessness of that hiding place when I return.”

“We can talk about whatever you want,” she murmured, a look of invitation in her brilliant green eyes that almost had him making a dive for the couch again.

He turned and marched out the door before he could change his mind and do something that could never be reversed.

Chapter Ten

Lindsey was sleeping when Dan returned. Drugged by the pain pill she hadn’t wanted to take, she’d fallen asleep on the couch watching cable news. She didn’t know how long she’d been out of it, but she opened her eyes to find Dan sitting in a chair nearby, watching her.

Lying curled on her side, one cheek cushioned by a throw pillow, she gazed back at him without sitting up. “You weren’t gone long.”

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