Page 77 of Before This Ends (Before)

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, then watch him walk out the door. Tossing the empty bottles into the recycling bin, I walk to the bedroom and find Emma in the middle of the bed with the TV on when I open the door.

“Everything okay with Tucker?” she asks as I step toward the bed and take off my shirt.

“He wanted to let me know about a meeting he set up for us tomorrow morning for a case we’re working on.” She nods but doesn’t ask what the meeting is about. “Has Miranda ever told you about what Tucker and I do for work?”

“Yeah.” She frowns slightly. “You’re both detectives.”

“We are. We also work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations,” I inform her, and her eyes widen slightly. “We were assigned to the police department here after corruption concerns were brought to the FBI’s attention. That’s what Tucker wanted to talk to me about tonight.”

“You work for the FBI?”

“For nine years,” I confirm, and she shakes her head.

“Miranda never told me that.”

“She most likely wasn’t sure if Tucker would be okay with anyone but her knowing.”

“Why are you telling me?”

“Because I want you to know everything about me.” I place a knee on the mattress, then reach out and grasp her ankle. She doesn’t put up a fight as I drag her across the duvet. Once she’s under me, I slide my hand up the back of her thigh and drop my mouth to hers. She opens for me, and I lick into her mouth, kissing her deep before pulling back and rubbing my nose across hers. “I also don’t want any secrets between us.” I lean back to look at her and watch her lashes flutter open while a small smile curves her lips. “So fucking beautiful.”

Her soft gaze locks on mine, then like she realized something her eyes widen. “Oh no,” she whispers, her hands that had just been clinging to me start to shove me away.

“What?” My brow furrows as I register the fear in her gaze.

“I…” She sucks in a breath. “I… I need to get up.”

“What is it?” I place my hand against her chest when she attempts to sit up.

“I need to go home.”

“You’re not going home.” What the fuck just happened?

“Let me up.”

“No,” I deny, and that fear in her eyes is replaced with panic.

“Let me… up.”

“What just happened.”

“Let me up!” she says louder, pushing against me.

“Emma.”

“I can’t do this.”

My heart begins to race as the fear in here voice coats my skin. “Do what?”

“I thought I could, but I can’t.” She shakes her head vigorously.

“Emma—”

“I can’t do this,” she repeats, a sob escaping.

“Baby, you’re not making any sense,” I say quietly, and tears begin to fill her eyes.

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