Page 82 of Whispers of You
A little of the humor fled from Jude’s face. “Any updates on things?”
I instantly knew what he meant and shook my head. “Nothing yet. But I hope like hell they get something soon.”
“Let us know if you hear anything,” Chris said.
“I will.”
I maneuvered around the tables and headed out into the morning sunshine. It was going to be a beautiful day—perfect weather for working with Shadow on a little training.
My steps faltered as I turned to head back to the station and my SUV. Joe Sullivan stood across the street, staring at me, his eyes blazing. And he was wearing a black hoodie.
28
WREN
I pushed backfrom my desk as Lucille lowered herself into the chair at the cubicle opposite me.
“How were things today?”
Her tone was even, but her eyes held worry. She’d seen some rough calls in her eight years on the job, but shootings were a whole other level.
“Pretty quiet. Possible heart attack this morning. Minor car accident this afternoon.”
While I was grateful there hadn’t been anything like yesterday, it had left me with far too much time to think. And remember. Holt’s hands on my body. His lips skimming my skin. The way everything had come apart around us.
“You holding up okay?”
Lucille’s voice had me snapping back to the present. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “I’ll be less so when I have to switch to nights in two days, but that’s life.”
She chuckled. “Those first two days are the worst. Doesn’t matter which direction I’m making the switch.”
For me, the nights were always rougher. I needed the sunshine. The four p.m. to two a.m. and two a.m. to nine a.m. shifts were brutal. I had to mainline coffee and do the occasional round of jumping jacks in my cubicle.
“They really should give us extra pay on those switch days.”
Lucille snorted. “Run that by the chief.”
“I just might.”
Lucille let out a low whistle as I bent to grab my bag.
“I think you’ve got a visitor.”
I straightened, turning in the direction she had her gaze pointed. The hard swallow was reflex. There was Holt, eyes zeroed in on me with intensity. He wore a Henley that hinted at the muscles beneath—dips and valleys I’d had my hands on just hours ago. He had the sleeves pushed up, exposing tanned forearms. My gaze trailed to his fingers—long and talented fingers.
Lucille laughed. “Oh, girl. You are so screwed. I just hope it’s in a fun way.”
“You and me both,” I grumbled as I started toward the man in question.
As soon as I was within arm’s reach, Holt took the bag from my shoulder. He leaned in to give me a quick kiss. “Good day?”
The normalcy of it all grated, maybe because I’d wanted it for so long. Someone to share my life with. The ups and downs of my day. But it wasn’t justsomeoneI’d wanted. It was Holt. And now that he was here, acting as if he’d never left, I battled between annoyance and blissful relief. But the emotion eating at me the most was fear.
“It was mellow.”
“That’s good, right?”
“I think we can all use mellow right about now.”
