Page 67 of The Last Close Call

His hands slid over her hips, and her entire body started to thrum as she felt his heat seeping into her.

Finally, she eased back.

“What?” he asked.

“I have a meeting to get to. And even if I didn’t...”

His eyebrows tipped up. “Even if you didn’t, what?”

She shook her head. “I can’t get involved with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” She stepped back. “It’s too hard. Everything you represent.”

He frowned. “What do I represent?”

She stepped back again, frustrated. “What I should be doing if I wasn’t such a chickenshit.”

He blinked at her. “I’m not following.”

“Police work. Investigating.” She looked away, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “I’m good at it, Jack. But I can’t do it again. I won’t. The nightmares, the paranoia. I felt like I was losing it!”

Quiet settled over them as she looked at his coffee table covered in paperwork. Case files. Of course. He brought his work home with him. He was a dedicated detective, and his job no doubt dominated his life.

Rowan glanced up, and he was staring down at her with a wary look on his face, like maybe she was crazy. Embarrassment flooded her, and she grabbed her purse.

“Wait.”

“I have to go.” She moved for the door.

“Just—wait. Look at me.”

She looked up.

“This type of work isn’t for everybody,” he said.

“I’m aware of that, thanks.”

“It can be dark. Depressing. Hell, half the cops I know are battling booze and burnout.”

“I know, all right? That’s exactly my point.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Something about his tone irked her. Like he knew he was stronger than she was. And it was true—he was! But she’d made a decision to step away years ago, and she didn’t want to go back. Not even when he was standing there giving her his reverse psychology, trying to make her think it was her decision, when really he was just laying a guilt trip so she’d help him with another cold case.

“I have to go.” She checked her watch. “I’m going to be late.”

He opened the door for her. “Thanks for telling me what you found.”

“Why? You already knew.” She stepped out and paused by the door. “How come I haven’t seen this in the media? The link between the San Antonio homicide and WCR?”

His expression darkened. “They haven’t caught wind of it yet. It won’t be long, though.”

She turned away, but something in his tone made her look back. “You think he’s trolling for another victim? This soon?”

The look in his eyes answered her question.

---