want to be at the academy. Pike loved it.”
“I’ve always wanted to work undercover.”
“It’s not a life you’d enjoy.”
“Now, there you go again, making blanket statements, based on what information? Why do you assume —”
“I’m just saying you’re not the type.” She tried to sit up, but he kissed her shoulder, keeping her against the pillow, attempting to distract her.
“I suppose that’s the assumption Pike made as well by choosing Michael instead of me.”
“Pike was presented with an opportunity.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s Michael’s story to share, not mine.” The kid really had been in some trouble and Erren understood now how they’d taken advantage of him.
“I think fast on my feet. I could handle undercover work.”
“There’s more to living undercover than just lying.” There had to be a way to express how nonglamorous his way of life actually was. “Living undercover is a nonexistence. You have to be someone who doesn’t care, create a person with no memories, no morals, no anything.”
She’d closed her eyes, pulled the sheet higher.
“You care, Darby. Way too much.”
She crossed her arms over her middle. He understood. He’d once thought living undercover would be exciting.
“I was eager when the DEA selected me to go undercover. Naive, wet behind the ears, however you want to describe it. Then Pike took me fishing. He pointed his short, chubby finger in my face and said, ‘Look here, kid, going undercover only has three results. You either get out of police work without a retirement plan, or you get taken in by the dirty money or you get dead. It’s a no-win situation.”
He wanted to get out of bed and pace. Walk. Run. Get away from every responsibility.
“You’ve obviously been successful at it.”
“Successful? I don’t have anything, Darby. The last person I cared about was murdered twelve days ago. I have no passion left for anything except finding Pike’s murderer.” He lifted a finger to her lips to stop her protest. “Until I met you.”
“That was some fancy backpedaling.” She laughed and brushed her lips across his before lying back again. “So you have no passion? Maybe you’ve been undercover too long, Erren.”
“There’s always one more case. One more thing in your life to put on hold. One more lie that’s too close to the truth.”
No more arguing or discussing. He failed at convincing this woman of anything except one thing…his passion for her was real. He kissed her long and deep, gently pinning her shoulders to the bed. “My turn to call the shots.”
DARBY AWOKE IN THE EARLY evening to a heavenly aroma. Eggs and toast?
“Hey. You hungry?” Erren asked, holding a plate of something above her head.
“Starved.” The doctor scrubs Erren had worn were close by, so she used them to cover up. “Wow. Dinner in bed.”
“And maybe something else.” He kissed her loudly. “Don’t make fun of the food.”
“I would nev—”
Erren set the plate in her lap. A slightly burned group of scrambled eggs with a slice of sandwich cheese melted across the top graced most of the plate. It was a far cry from an omelet—or even pretty—but one of the best things ever presented to her. At least the aroma was heavenly, even if the picture wasn’t quite perfect.
The toast was lightly brown, like a toaster had done its job correctly.
She smiled up at her partner and lover. “Thanks. It smells great.”
“I don’t claim to cook.”
She took a tentative bite while he watched. It really wasn’t half-bad. “Perfect.”
He laughed. “Darby, you shouldn’t try to lie to a liar.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Earlier, they’d hung heavy blankets over her bedroom windows to block their movements and any light. Erren had brought her dad’s car to her garage so they were set to leave in a hurry, or stay until they determined their next move.
Right as usual, Erren said they needed rest and they’d fallen onto the bed for a second round of
They’d finally slept, completely exhausted.
Exhaustion had never quite felt as sinful as this moment. Or as dangerous.
“Aren’t you eating?”
Erren sat on the edge of bed. “Done. You know, something’s bothered me. Been nagging at my subconscious for the past couple of days.”
“Besides me?”
“Yeah.” He tugged at his chin, scratching the day’s worth of beard. “I was sent
“And?”
“And maybe your brother intended to meet me
She flexed her leg muscles, sore from the unfamiliar afternoon exercise.
“Why would he instruct me to stick with you?” She put another bite of omelet on her tongue and swallowed fast. “If he was going to meet you, that wouldn’t have been necessary.”
“So what are the facts?” he asked, seemingly determined to find what was nagging at him. “Pike gets shot before he can get the package to your brother.”
“There’s blood evidence at the scene so we know Michael was shot at the same time. And if either of them had the package…the murderers wouldn’t still be looking for it.”
“Pike sent for me, intending to give me a map to your house.” He shoved his longish hair out of his face, leaving his fingers laced together behind his head—leaving his chest flexed and a huge distraction.
“I…um… I’ve only lived here three weeks.”
“You said Michael drew the map, but he’s never been here. Did you tell him you’d moved?”
“I haven’t seen him since I moved.”
“Would Pike have told him?”
She shrugged. She didn’t know anything about Pike or her brother any longer.
“It’s more likely Michael’s been watching you himself.”
His eyes dropped to the fork she was using like a miniature baton, so she stopped her nervous habit of twirling it through her fingers.
“Michael drew the map sending you
Darby didn’t know how to interpret the carefully guarded reaction of the half-naked man sitting on the edge of her bed. She did know that Erren had hidden every visible response to her brilliant conclusion. He wasn’t acting excited, mad or indifferent. He was deep in thought about something.
Her bedroom had been a sanctuary all day, but he seemed to be smoldering just under the surface. She was ready to move, but he casually leaned across her legs, pinning her to the bed.
