Marissa twisted in her seat belt, straining to look through the back window. “Someone’s turning onto my parents’ drive.” Panic raised her soft voice to a new octave. “I don’t know that truck.”
The small black Ford disappeared from sight in Blake’s rearview as it motored toward the Lane home. “I asked my dad to stop by. See if there’s anything he can do to curb their fears.”
“You sent him to guard them?” Her voice quivered on the last word.
“Yeah.” Blake took the next left and stole a look at her bruised face. His fingers tightened on the wheel. “It’s precautionary. Nothing more.”
Her shoulders relaxed by a small measure.
“How is it that you’re so calm?” he asked. Most people he protected had at least one outburst by now, and their threats weren’t always as immediate. He expected tears. Rage. Something. People in Marissa’s position usually found someone in law enforcement to blame for their circumstance or a reason to complain about the way Blake handled the case. Instead, she’d been instrumental in every step of progress they’d made. “You were smart to think of the lake town.” His stomach rolled at the memory of all those women being pulled ashore. “You did a mighty thing.”
She pursed her lips and looked away, watching the view outside her window. “Lucky guess.”
“And the calm front you’re wearing?”
“A disguise.” The inflection in her voice suggested she wasn’t sure. “Maybe mind over matter. I don’t know. I’ve always been pretty good at compartmentalizing in times of strife or challenge. I break big obstacles into smaller, more manageable tasks, then I handle the pieces one at a time. I use the same method to reach personal goals. It’s how I got through college while working full-time, and pretty much how I learn to do anything. Horseback riding. Rock climbing. Nothing comes easily for me. I’m just a natural-born hardhead, and I guess I’m applying those strategies now. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Well, it’s working.”
“It’s how I got away,” she said, taking a look in his direction. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, focusing on the small picture is probably the only reason I’m not in the bathtub back at the hotel wound into the fetal position.” She turned back to her window. “Besides, panic has never helped anyone accomplish anything, and Kara needs me to stay focused. I’ll have a proper breakdown later. Privately.”
Emotion welled in Blake’s chest. He didn’t like the thought of her alone and upset in a bathtub or anywhere else. “You can talk to me,” he said, “if you want.” He’d like that. Marissa was strong, maybe even the kind of woman who could handle life with someone like him, a man who spent his life in a perpetual state of danger. Most women either couldn’t or wouldn’t, but he suspected Marissa was fully capable of anything.
Truth be told, the Garrett boys’ reputation for being a matched set of untamable playboys was deeply ironic. Even if they wanted to settle down, how would they find someone willing to endure life with a lawman? It was easier not to think past the third date than to haplessly search for someone who didn’t exist.
“What?” Marissa asked.
Blake started. “What?”
“You shook your head. Was that because of what I said?”
“No.”
Her gaze warmed the side of Blake’s face.
He waited. Apparently, she had something to ask, and he knew firsthand how difficult it could be to put some things into words. Considering all that Marissa was going through, she deserved to take as long as she wanted. Personally, he found it easier to keep things to himself, speaking only when necessary and never longer than he had to. The practice had served him well as an agent. When he had something to say, his team knew it was worth hearing, and they listened.
Marissa lifted and dropped her hands against her thighs. “My dad thinks I should have stayed with him.”
Blake’s gaze jumped to hers, then back to the road. The uncertainty in her tone was a blow to his chest. Did she think her dad could keep her safer? Was that possible? Or was it something else? Maybe she wanted a break from Blake’s constant presence and was too polite or overwhelmed to say so. He’d been enjoying their dynamic, but he hadn’t considered how she might feel. Stifled. Smothered. Unhappy. He slowed the truck. “Nash is looking for you, so your presence will add to their risk. I won’t stop you from going back, but I’m staying with you wherever you are.” He could keep watch from outside if she needed a break from him.
Her blue eyes widened. “No. I want to stay with you.”
His grip on the wheel loosened. “Okay.” He turned back to the road with relief and nonsensical pride. “Then why’d you bring that up?”
She bit into the thick of her bottom lip and furrowed her brows. “My dad thinks I’m keeping you from playing a more active role in Nash’s pursuit, and I think you should focus on the case and stop worrying so much about me. I don’t want to be the thing that holds you back.”
The sincerity in her eyes and voice sliced straight through him. He pulled the truck over and twisted on the seat to face her. “Your dad is wrong.”
She wet her lips and waited, for what he wasn’t sure, but the words from his head were piling on his tongue faster than he could sort them. “We’re sticking together,” he said. “If you’re not with me, then I’ll be worrying about you, and that’s no good. My men can handle the field while I take point. We’re doing it this way because it’s the only way that makes sense, not because you’re holding me back.”
His
