Page 18 of Lone Star Witness

He didn’t. Without taking his gaze off her, he pulled back. “Bad dream,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

She nodded, and shoving her hair out of face, Marise sat up and glanced around. She was in the guestroom at Slade’s house. A house with an amazing view since the wall of windows overlooked the lake.

“It’s morning,” she muttered, and Marise winced when she glanced at the time. Nearly eight AM. “You should have woken me sooner. No, I should have set an alarm to check on you since you might have a concussion.”

“No concussion,” he assured her. “And you needed the sleep.”

She couldn’t deny that. After they’d dealt with giving their statements to the cops and Slade had filled Ruby in about the shooting, it’d been nearly two in the morning. Slade and she had come to the house, and she’d practically fallen face-first into bed where she hadn’t expected to get much sleep.

Obviously, she had been wrong about that.

Sleep had happened. For her anyway. She wasn’t so sure it had for Slade. He looked tired.

And amazing.

Then again, the amazing part was his default. He always looked good. But that was the first time he’d woken her up like that.

“You kissed me,” she repeated.

“I did. It was my own makeup version of a grounding technique.”

Well, it sort of fit the definition since a grounding technique was something to help focus on the current environment and feelings instead of the flashbacks. The kiss had done that.

But it was also playing with fire.

Marise cursed herself when she wanted more of that fire. More of his kisses. Definitely not the time for that, especially since they had so much going on.

“Updates on Sonny, Rosa… and any and everything else,” she said, getting out of the bed.

He nodded and stood. “I’ve got some new info. Meet me in the kitchen,” he added before he strolled out, giving her an amazing view of the way his jeans fit his equally amazing backside.

She was still wearing her scrubs so she grabbed her bag and went into the bathroom for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Jeans and a top. Then, Marise headed to the kitchen where she knew there’d be a pot of coffee. Not the shortcut, single-serve type either. A brewed pot of something that would be delicious and calm her throbbing head.

A trek through Slade’s house was always an experience. A very techie place with modern décor to go along with it. Definitely no bachelor pad vibe here, but there were vibes of his late mother.

Slade had positioned photos of her in silver frames on a table in the hall, and often her favorite songs were playing on the speakers. Speakers that Marise had never been able to spot anywhere on the ceilings or walls. Along with tech and modern, Slade kept things sleek and uncluttered.

Marise made her way into the open floorplan living, dining, and kitchen where the techie stuff was evident pretty much everywhere. Slim monitors on the walls that she knew could be used to display reports, photos and such, along with the having the capability to do video calls.

Spock, the AI program, ruled the roost here and could be summoned with the mention of his name. A name that was another homage to his mother since Slade had told her it was his mom’s favorite TV character.

Slade must have understood her need for caffeine because he had a big mug of the brew waiting for her. It was strong, black, and perfect. She had a few much needed gulps, and Slade slid a plate with a cinnamon bagel her way. It was another of her favorites. The man certainly knew how to please.

“Before we get started, how are your injuries?” she asked. “Let me check those stitches.”

“The stitches are fine. Sit, eat, and then we’ll go to the hospital to talk to the colonel.”

She certainly hadn’t forgotten about him, and speaking to him suddenly seemed urgent. Rosa might be the key to them understanding why Sonny had tried to kill them.

“Why don’t I eat and drink while you drive?” she suggested. “That would speed up things.”

Slade shrugged, transferred their coffees into travel mugs and motioned for her to follow him. But then she stopped when she remembered something.

“Wait, your van was shot up,” she blurted.

“I have other vehicles. Not the Harley,” Slade assured her. “I don’t want you out in the open like that. We’ll take my SUV.” She was about to say she hadn’t seen it in his garage, but he added, “Ruby had it delivered here about an hour ago.”

“Thank heaven for Ruby,” she muttered. “And for your fleet of vehicles. Too bad though we can’t do the Harley.” She’d ridden with him on it several times, and it was exhilarating.

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