“Wow. That’s a powerful pull.”
“You have no idea.”
She imagined doing all the work it must’ve taken to complete law school, only to drop it all and go another way. Maybe protect and serve really was in the Garrett DNA.
“Dumb, right? I gave up a comfortable future for half the pay and ten times the personal injury.”
Marissa leveled him with her most sincere stare. “No. I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, doing exactly what you were called to do. You can’t put a price on that.”
His lips parted and his brows raised. “You have no idea what that means coming from you.”
She dipped her spoon into the steamy broth and smiled, enjoying the swell in her chest. Federal Agent Blake Garrett was nothing like any man she’d ever met. He had brains and brawn, as well as a little more of her heart every time they spoke.
* * *
MARISSA EXCUSED HERSELF to the ladies’ room, and Blake angled in his seat, attempting to keep an eye on both the front door and rear hallway. Two bites of chili later, he gave up and headed for the ladies’ room.
“Oh!” She started at the sight of him in the narrow hallway.
“Sorry.” He dipped his head forward to rub the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure if there was a rear entrance, so I thought I should keep watch by the door.”
Marissa looked strangely refreshed. She’d touched up her lip gloss and the baby hairs near her temple were speckled with tiny droplets of water.
She tucked a long blond strand behind one ear and smiled shyly. “I splashed some water on my face.” Her cheeks grew ruddy with the admission. “I looked awful.”
Blake doubted that Marissa had ever looked awful in her life. He watched with rapt attention as a small drop followed the curve of her jaw and traveled the length of her slender neck. Whatever she’d said next was lost to the thrumming in his chest. Blake drank her in with greedy eyes, from the flush of her skin to the gentle sway of her back. Marissa was breath-taking.
She moved slowly forward in the cramped space, stopping only when the toes of her shoes bumped his. “Please quit looking at me like I’m going to break.”
“I don’t think you’re going to break.” He raised his hand carefully, never taking his eyes off hers, allowing her every opportunity to back away like she had at the station when she woke. He was tired of fighting the urge to be closer to her, and she needed to know what she was doing to him. Her rejection would set him straight. It would put these ridiculous feelings to rest so he could start thinking of ways to keep her safe instead of ways to keep her near.
Her lids fell shut as the backs of his fingertips reached her cheek. He stroked the tender curve of her jaw before cupping it in both his palms.
The ache in his belly grew as he struggled to understand this thing that had taken hold of him from the moment she’d walked into his life.
Her lips parted on an intake of breath, and he strained against the need to taste them. He fought the crackling electricity coursing over his skin from hers, and he forced himself to think of the right thing. For Marissa.
“Blake.” Her eyes eased open. Were they heavy with desire? Or was he merely hoping?
She lifted her hands to his chest, sliding them gently upward to his shoulders.
The buzz of his phone nearly killed him.
She dropped her forehead against his chest and exhaled a gush of warm breath. “Sorry.”
“No.” Blake glared at the blasted phone, his heart beating like horses’ hooves against his ribs. “Do not be sorry.” He lifted a finger as he studied the phone’s small screen, then raised apologetic eyes to hers. “The coroner has preliminary findings.”
“Okay.” She inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
* * *
THE TRIP TO the coroner’s office was quiet. He couldn’t say where Marissa’s thoughts were, but his were back at the restaurant with her hands winding over his shoulders.
“Garrett.” An elderly man in a white lab coat greeted him at the front desk. “Your dad and I used to do this.” He motioned between them.
Blake tried to smile, but failed. What he needed now were facts. Niceties could come later when he knew all there was to know about Nash’s victims. “What do you have?”
“We’ve confirmed the identities of five of the six victims.” He handed Blake a file folder. “I’ve put copies of all our preliminary data in there for you.”
Blake scanned the pages. Four women were the victims whose families Blake had gotten to know in the course of his investigation. West had correctly identified the fifth victim as a recently missing jogger at the county line. “What about the woman who’d been down there longest?”
“That will take a while longer. She was in...” the man cast his gaze to Marissa before reaffixing it to Blake, “worse shape.”
Blake flipped between the listed causes of death. “The victims were all drowned.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Ice slid through Blake’s veins. He’d wrongly assumed that Nash had killed the women elsewhere and dragged them to their watery graves afterward. He winced at the memory of scuba weights near the tree where Nash and Marissa had fought. Nash would have drowned Marissa in the lake and dressed her there, along the bank or underwater. So, the veil left on her bed was strictly meant to antagonize her after she’d gotten away. Just like the suitcases left on her sister’s porch. Nash wanted to keep her afraid. Break her focus. Make her easier prey.
A sudden cacophony blasted outside the building. Marissa jumped at Blake’s side, curling against him for safety.
“It’s my truck alarm.” He smoothed a palm down the length of her hair and back before peeling her away. He pointed at the man. “Take her into your office and lock the door.”
Blake eased
