Page 22 of Midnight Rebel

I squeeze my eyes shut, clinging to this moment of bliss. If only I could freeze time, capture this feeling forever.

But reality creeps in, as persistent as the dawn. The truth of why I’m in Midnight Falls crashes over me, as jarring as ice water down my spine.

I came here to uncover secrets, not to fall for the man entangled in them.

I turn carefully, not wanting to wake him. My breath catches as I drink in Colt’s sleeping form. His usually sharp features are softened, dark hair tousled against the pillow.

Without the weight of his responsibilities, he looks younger, almost vulnerable.

A lump forms in my throat. How did I let myself get in so deep?

As if sensing my gaze, Colt’s eyes flutter open. A slow smile spreads across his face as he tightens his arm around my waist.

“Morning, Firefly,” he murmurs.

I turn to face him, drinking in the sight of his messy hair and sleepy eyes. “Morning.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before sitting up. “If you hurry to get dressed, I’ll have time to make you breakfast.”

“What’s the rush?” I trace a finger along his jaw, relishing the rasp of stubble. “I was enjoying myself right here.”

A shadow crosses his face. “Contractor’s coming to quote on fixing the tunnels.”

Reality crashes back in. The investigation, the accidents, the secrets lurking in every corner of this place – it all comes flooding back. I push the unease aside, clinging to our bubble for one more moment.

“Wait.” I prop myself up on my elbows. “I haven’t even placed my breakfast order.”

Colt’s lips quirk up in that devastating half-smile. “You don’t need to. I know what you eat, how you like it cooked, how much cream and sugar you take in your coffee.”

My heart does a little flip. “All that, and we’ve only been together for a few days.”

His eyes soften as he looks at me. “Yet it feels like forever.”

I blink, taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. To cover my sudden nervousness, I tease, “Are you making fun of me?”

Colt snorts. “Making fun of you is this,” he says, tucking an imaginary strand of hair behind his ear while batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. It’s such a spot-on imitation of my nervous habit that I burst out laughing.

“I didn’t realize I was so transparent,” I say, still chuckling.

“Only to someone who’s been watching you very closely.”

Colt rises from the bed, which suddenly feels too big and too empty.

Heat blooms in my cheeks. To distract myself from the intensity of his gaze, I say, “I’ll hop in the shower so we don’t delay. My editor is breathing down my neck. I need to deliver something soon.”

Concern flashes across Colt’s face. “Any new leads?”

I sigh, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Scattered threads, but they’ll come together soon enough.”

At least, I hope they will. The pressure to produce a story worthy of my editor’s expectations is starting to weigh on me.

Colt nods, his expression thoughtful. He leans in to kiss me. I savor the connection before reluctantly pulling away.

“I really should get that shower,” I murmur against his lips.

He groans softly. “You’re killing me, Firefly. But you’re right.” He releases me and stands, stretching in a way that makes his muscles ripple enticingly. “I’ll start on breakfast. Don’t be too long, or it’ll get cold.”

As I watch him leave the room, I’m struck by how domestic this feels. It’s as if we’ve been doing this dance for years instead of days. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. I’ve never let anyone get this close this quickly before.

---