Page 6 of The Negotiator

Her expressions actually rumbled inside him. He could feel her smile in his gut and he didn’t get the sensation at all. But he did want to encourage her change in mood. “There, see? We agree on something.”

They stood on opposite sides of the small gate, her fingers locked over the top in a death grip. She shook her head as she looked at him.

“Garrett.” That’s all she said. His name in that deep voice that drove him wild.

“Let’s go inside and we’ll figure this out.”

She hesitated for another second before stepping back and gesturing for him to follow her up the steps. “I suppose you think this is an official date.”

Compared to what they had been doing before tonight, they were practically engaged. “We picked up dinner. We’re going into your house together. You’re right. Clearly not a date.”

He ignored the idea of her having a husband and this amounting to cheating. In his head, whatever she had with Carl was long over. He just hoped she felt the same way.

“You think you’re so clever.” Amusement filled her voice.

He loved when she entered into verbal volleys with him. When the edge fell away and it was just them talking. “I’m going to be humble here and let you be the one to throw around descriptions like clever. Brilliant. Whatever means always being right. I think we can agree those fit.”

She rolled her eyes as she slid her key in the lock. “You never disappoint.”

“Let’s hope you hold on to that thought as we continue to date.”

“I never said...” She opened the door but didn’t even cross the threshold before slamming to a halt. “Oh, my God.”

The tremble in her voice hit him first. The lights were on, just as they left them. He didn’t hear a sound but he rushed to put his body in front of hers. That’s when he saw them. Men’s deck shoes. The legs.

A guy on her floor.

“What the fuck?” Garrett shot inside and held out a hand to keep her back. A quick check of the house, looking behind doors and scanning every inch for signs of struggle or a break-in, then he was back at her side.

Ignoring his warning, she’d walked up to the body and stared down with a face that had gone pale. Her gaze traveled all over the motionless form.

“Carl?” His name came out as a whisper as she started to slide to her knees beside him.

Garrett caught her just in time. “No.”

She looked ready to go around him if necessary. “But he’s—”

“Stop.” Garrett knew what Carl was. The still body, the unmoving chest and an expanding blood pool. Yeah, he recognized the signs. “Call 9–1–1. Use your cell.”

She fumbled with her phone, nearly dropped it as she grabbed it out of her jeans pocket. The extra seconds gave Garrett a chance to lean down and check for a pulse. He went through the motions but he knew he didn’t have to.

He could hear her talking, begging for an ambulance. The stream of words stopped as she tore her gaze away from Carl’s body to look at Garrett. “Is he okay?”

She had to be in shock because she was too smart to ask that question. Worse, he couldn’t figure out a decent way to answer. “Uh, not really.”

“What does that mean?”

Garrett prided himself on handling difficult situations. He balanced work issues and talked to people all day. His boss and best friend, Wren, wasn’t great with other humans, so it often fell to Garrett to explain things and deliver bad news.

But nothing had prepared him for this, for the panic in her eyes or the way her hands shook. He hated being the one who delivered the news. “He’s dead, Lauren.”

She almost dropped the phone. “He can’t be.”

“This time he really is.”

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