Page 34 of Make You Mine

Better question: Who is leading him back to Los Angeles? ~ Ford

Are you thinking there’s a tail? ~ C. Perez

I take a second to answer him, trying to find the right words to explain my theory on Jason knowing we have Ava. I’m not trying to give away too much information as this is a conversation better had in person.

There are just too many coincidences, something I don’t believe in. His escape was too easy, and the manhunt seems to be going slow. On purpose or not, neither add up.

Too close for comfort. ~ Ford

I’ll be at your building tomorrow at eight a.m. sharp. Talk then. ~ C. Perez

See you in the morning. ~ Ford

Something occurs to me then, and I shoot him another message.

There’s a file inside my desk that I need. Please bring it. The top drawer on the right. ~ Ford

Got it. ~ C. Perez

Tossing the small device on the table, I follow the scent of fresh coffee and bacon.

What I find upon entering my kitchen is utterly delicious and so fucking wrong. All thoughts stop, and nothing but this moment exists. No case. No worries.

Seeing her like this gives me a sense of domestication I never craved before. Of satisfaction. Being in a relationship hasn’t been for me. Women like dating a man in uniform until reality sets in. This is not a costume for a late-night fuck session. My last girlfriend was years ago because she simply couldn’t handle my job. The hours spent away, the sudden emergencies pulling me away from a movie date or late-night dinner, became too much for her.

I’m not the kind of asshole who doesn’t understand the anger it might cause. I’d get pissed myself at times when called away, but just like I understood her job as a PA for the CEO of a production company—her long hours—I expected the same tolerance.

I’d never cheat. That’s not the kind of man I am, but my job is important.

I’m honored to help a grieving family find any semblance of closure while at the same time, helping them find justice.

Yes, it could be dangerous, but I know what I signed up for. I’m careful, and over the years, opportunities to let off steam were very few and far between. Not a priority. The last time was more than six months ago, and up until Ava, I’ve been more than okay with that.

My life is my career. There hasn’t been room for anything else, and yet, right now, I welcome this. Her. This yearning she brings out in me is fucking with my head.

I’m fighting the need to take her when protecting her must come first.

How easily I give in. Lose focus.

“She’s fucking beautiful.”

Ava is at the stove, oblivious to me as she hums, her hips moving from side to side. Cooking shouldn’t be this attractive. Her total avoidance of my being shouldn’t pull me in closer, but it does. I almost hate that I crave her.

She doesn’t see me as I watch her flip a slice of bacon and then another. Nor when she cracks an egg and then whisks it for scrambled eggs because the woman doesn’t like omelets. But that seems to be a recurrent behavior since arriving.

Since those sweet lips touched my skin. Since my fingertips dug into her hips.

Avoidance is her ammo, and it’s driving me insane.

“Good morning,” I say after another minute, having waited until she was by the sink to announce myself.

“Shit!” Ava gives a small jump and then whirls around to face me. Her blue eyes narrow, and her hips jut to the right as she places a hand there. Angry. A fiery and sexy kitten. “Do I need to put a bell on you?”

“Are you going to continue avoiding me?” I counter, and she looks away, a hint of pink sweeping across the apple of her cheeks.Love how easily she blushes for me.“Talk to me, Ava.”

“I’m not avoiding per se...”

“So, what do you call hiding or exiting the room if I enter it?”

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