Page 58 of The Case of the Missing Love Stone

“The case.”

“Only the case?”

His attention moves toward the hallway Scarlet disappeared down. Wes has spent his adult life building walls between instinct and decision. Usually, that discipline makes him good at his job. Right now, it has him trying to file wanting Scarlet under operational risk.

“What happened last night doesn’t make her ours.”

His jaw works once. “I’m aware.”

“But?”

He exhales through his nose. “But I want it to.”

“That isn’t the dangerous part.”

His eyes narrow.

“The dangerous part is deciding distance is the only way to prove you’re still objective.”

“I’m not withdrawing.”

“You’re unpacking evidence like it insulted your family.”

“It’s poorly labeled.”

I glance at the neat black printing on every file we copied at the sheriff’s office in town. “Obviously.”

The corner of his mouth almost moves. Then his expression settles. “If I stop questioning her because I want her, I’m useless to her.”

“Yes.”

“If I let Tom argue that attraction compromised the investigation, anything we find that clears her becomes easier to dismiss.”

“Yes.”

“And every instinct I have is telling me to put her in the truck, take her somewhere safe, and keep the town away from her.”

“That one sounds less procedural.”

“It is.”

I step closer and rest a hand at the back of his neck. His muscles remain tense beneath my palm. “You can want all of that and still let her choose to get close,” I tell him. “You can follow the evidence without making her pay for the fact that you care.”

His gaze returns to mine. “And you?” he asks.

“I’m not pretending I don’t want her.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“No.” I rub my thumb once beneath his hairline. “I want to keep touching her. I want to know what she looks like when she stops waiting for care to disappear. I also know Scarlet is never going to let her pack manage her.”

Wes makes an amused sound. “She would stab us.”

“With impressive accuracy.”

That earns me a smile. It’s small but real. I lean in and kiss him. His hand closes around my hip, pulling me close enough that the tension in his body has somewhere to go. The kiss stays brief because Scarlet’s footsteps sound in the hallway, but affection moves warm and settled through our bond. Wes releases me without stepping away.

Scarlet enters, wearing an oversized coffee colored sweater and soft black shorts. Her auburn hair hangs loose around her shoulders. She has wiped the mud from her legs but missed a streak along one knee.