Page 31 of Head Over Skates

“Cozy,” he murmurs, his breath tickling my ear. I shiver involuntarily.

“Focus, Jablonski,” I hiss. “We’re looking for anything that ties Mark to the robbery.”

I pull a small flashlight from my pocket and begin scanning the cluttered space. Owen sidles up beside me, peering over my shoulder, the fresh pine scent of him attacking my self-restraint.

“Well, well, Brooks, look what we have here.” Owen reaches around me—close, so close—and plucks a receipt off the shelf. “Looks like Mark made a little purchase the day after the trophy went missing.”

I snatch the receipt from Owen’s hand, my pulse quickening. It’s from a pawn shop downtown, time stamped the morning after the break-in.

“This could be it,” I breathe. “The proof we need to expose him.”

Owen grins, his blue eyes glinting in the dim light. “Ya know, I didn’t think we’d be such a good team, but now I’m warming up to the idea.”

I fight the urge to smile back. I can’t let him think I’m actually enjoying this. But the truth is, it is kind of thrilling, being here with Owen on this secret mission.

We continue searching the small office, bumping into each other repeatedly in the tight space. Owen takes every opportunity to place his hands on me, steadying my waist or catching my arm. Normally I’d shove him away, but I can’t afford to make any noise.

“You know, Brooks,” he says quietly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you orchestrated this whole thing just to get me alone.”

I whip around to face him. “You are delusional.”

He grins down at me, backing me up against the shelf. “Come on, just admit you have a little crush on me.”

My cheeks burn, but I keep my voice steady. “You are the most arrogant man I have ever met.”

Owen leans in close, bracing his hands on the shelf on either side of my head. I’m trapped between him and the cold metal at my back.

“It’s just us, Kitty Cat,” he whispers. “Why else would you go to such lengths to annoy me?”

My pulse is racing but I refuse to let him fluster me. I slip under his arm and turn the tables, shoving him back against the shelf.

“You listen to me, Owen Jablonski,” I say sharply. “The only thing going on between us is this investigation. Understood?”

He looks momentarily surprised and then laughs.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered. Do you know that?”

“Shhh!”

I go back to searching the office, my flashlight illuminating stacks of paperwork. Owen is close beside me, his muscular frame nearly brushing against mine in the cramped space.

"Hmmm." Owen murmurs, pulling out a stack of papers wedged between two helmets. “I think I found something.”

I shine my light over the documents. They appear to be betting slips, pages and pages of them.

"Mark has a gambling problem," I say in surprise. "A pretty serious one, from the looks of this."

Owen flips through the slips, letting out a low whistle. "He's got some hefty bets here. The kind they break legs over."

My mind races, thoughts clicking into place. "So if Mark was desperate for money to pay off debts..."

"He might steal a priceless team trophy to pawn for cash," Owen finishes. He turns to look at me, eyes gleaming. "This is big. The motive we've been looking for."

I nod, pulse quickening. This could be the break in the case we've needed. Wordlessly, I pull out my phone and start snapping pictures of the incriminating evidence.

Owen moves closer, looking over my shoulder. I try to ignore his proximity, the way I can feel his warm breath on my neck as he peers at my phone screen. Focus, I remind myself. "Good thinking, getting photographic proof. Still, I think I’ll take a few of these. Just in case."

He stuffs a few receipts in his pocket. I step aside, straightening my clothes with as much dignity as I can muster.

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