Page 5 of Fate's Crossing

She looked up to find him giving her a pointed stare, so she nodded.

“Is he a police officer?” At his raised brow, she added, “I saw the badge.”

And the gun.

“Yeah, he is. From Boston.”

She blinked. “Boston? What’s he doing here?”

“Now, you know I can’t discuss official police business with you, Lex. We have rules.”

There it is.

Lexie resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the blatant peacocking of power—payback for her refusal to let him in on her business with Kyle.

Fine. She wasn’t about to grovel for the information.

“You need an escort home?” he asked. “Me and the boys will be heading off shortly, once we get things all squared away here.”

“No thanks, Lieutenant,” she said, turning the key in the ignition and cranking the heat. “I’ll be fine.”

Chapter one

Nico Dominici woke the same way he had for almost two years—gasping for air. Cold and damp with sweat, his sheets tangled around his legs while his head swam with images of blood and death. He sat up and reached for the little orange bottle on the nightstand, the familiar rattle of pills comforting as he swallowed one down and waited for his body to stop trembling.

Breathe.

His heart thumped in his chest like a war drum. Slowing down, down, down.

The ringing in his ears slowly subsided.

The panic dissipated.

He sighed. It didn’t seem to matter where he went, his demons always followed.

Bracing for the inevitable ache in his thigh, Nico heaved his body to stand and stepped straight into the shower, letting the warm water blast the pain away. Enveloped in steam, he rested his head against the cool tiles and told himself for the thousandth time that this wasn’t a mistake. That he hadn’t upended his entire career—his life—for no reason.

When he shut the water off, he could hear birds chirping in the trees outside his rented cabin. Such a pleasant, unfamiliar sound. Very different from the car horns and sirens he was used to.

He dressed quickly, sporting his usual jeans, dark tee, and jacket, before locking up and walking the short distance to Main Street.

It was a sunny morning in Mercy Cove, the temperature sitting pleasantly in the high sixties. A light breeze carrying with it the pleasing aromas of pine and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the bustling coastal town as it came to life around him. Giant trees towered overhead, a thick canopy throwing generous patches of shade over pretty brick sidewalks and manicured hedges. The concrete curbs were swept clean, paved with stone-cladded garden beds, and backing onto an assortment of bakeries and gift shops, all turning their signs to Open as he walked by. Up ahead, a few cafés were setting out their tables and chairs for the day, positioning the chalkboards advertising the breakfast and lunch specials.

Hard to believe this little slice of paradise sat just a half-day’s drive from his former front door. Hard to believe she did too. Alexis Bowen, the angel sent from heaven to save his sorry ass when he had no hope of saving himself.

He had thought about her a lot since the accident, disjointed images of what had happened that day blurring in his mind. A beauty bathed in light. Eyes, sapphire blue, sweeping over him with concern. Hair, long and blonde and lovely despite being plastered to her face. Vanilla, the faint scent of it on her skin when she’d gotten close enough for him to catch it. And Bon Jovi, irrational recollections of her singing “Livin’ on a Prayer,” though it was probably just the radio glitching. The whole thing was like a puzzle, pieces all jumbled together in the box, yet to be put together in a cohesive whole.

Agony had been the focal point for him that day, but distracted as he was, Nico hadn’t been above noticing certain details when she’d peeled off her blouse to use as a bandage—the way the thin remaining fabric had clung to her dampened skin, outlining a narrow ribcage and slender waist. Drenched and muddy and frightened, he remembered her being the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

His mystery woman. The one he still thought about when he couldn’t sleep at night—which was most of the time. He’d sourced her name and info from the police report of his accident and knew she still resided here, waitressing in a bar downtown.

Would she think that was creepy?

Don’t overthink it, jackass.

Creepy or not, Nico was resolute in one thing; for the first time since the accident, he was finally going to meet her. Officially. And thank her for what she did.

It was long overdue, but still, he found the idea unsettling. Not because he didn’t want to do it; it had just been such a long time, he’d begun to wonder if she’d remember him, or if she’d even want to see him if she did.

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