Page 5 of Every Heartbeat After

He coughs. Clears his throat. Red rises from the collar of his tan uniform shirt. “Sorry. You’re Tess, right? Gary’s niece?”

Some small part of me sparks at that. Belonging to someone. How long has it been since I was somebody’s daughter? Somebody’s anything?

Since my grandfather—my last living relative—passed two years ago, I’ve only been Tess. Completely solitary. Utterly alone.

“That’s me.” I answer with a smile that’s only semi-forced. The embarrassment has reached his cheeks, dyeing them scarlet. For some ungodly reason I’m tempted to rise up on my tiptoes and kiss the flushed skin.

What the hell, Tess?I may be outgoing, but I’m notthatoutgoing.

All around us, engines rumble and exhaust floods the air. Doors slam and people embrace, their excited chatter adding to the cacophony. Kit and I stare at each other, and I wonder briefly if he feels the same strange inclination to reach out and touch me.

Doubtful. I’m simply succumbing to the heat and my long day of travel. In an effort to distract myself, I point behind him. “Do I get to ride up front, or am I under arrest?”

He chuckles, and it’s like he transforms right in front of me. Whatever awkward energy was plaguing him before, it passes. I take a note from his book and shake it off my shoulders along with the pack. He’s just attractive. I can deal with attractive. No reason for my brain to short-circuit over some broad shoulders in a deputy uniform.

“I’ll forgo the handcuffs if you promise you can restrain yourself.”

I quirk a brow. First he’s stumbling over his words, and now he’s going to flirt? Perhaps it wasn’t just me, then. “Somehow I’ll manage.”

His gaze flits over me once more, this time so obvious I have to assume he wants me to notice. “Yeah, we’ll see.” He pulls the door open for me, then holds out his opposite hand, palm up. “I can take your bag.”

It’s the first time I’ve noticed his drawl, mostly because I hear them on a daily basis. Everyone in Fly Hollow speaks with a twang, myself included. What I hadn’t expected was to encounter one out here, so far from home.

“Where are you from?” I ask when he climbs into the driver’s side after depositing my bag in the back seat. The traffic monitor tips his hat to Kit as we pass. No wonder he was allowed to hog the curb while everyone else was whistled at to move.

“Mississippi. Near Pascagoula, if you’ve ever heard of that.” He’s facing the road, but I feel his attention on me. Like a secondary awareness. A hand at the base of your spine when the person holding you is looking away.

“I have. I’m from a small town in southern Alabama.”

“No shit.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “How on earth did you and Gary end up living so far apart?”

I relax into the seat, letting my gaze drift toward the window. In the distance the Rockies stand sentinel over the city below. Denver is all shiny metal and moving cars, surrounded by nature so vast my mind can barely comprehend it.

“His mom and my grandpa went to college together at the University of Alabama. She must’ve gotten pregnant right before graduation, but she never told him. At least as far as I can tell. My grandpa passed away, so I can’t really ask him for details.” I shrug, still staring at the changing landscape around us. “Anyway, I guess she married someone in the military when Gary was a baby and never bothered to tell him that wasn’t his dad. Gary joined when he was eighteen to follow the guy’s footsteps, and that’s how he ended up in Colorado.”

Kit nods. “That’s how I ended up here, too.”

My gaze cuts from the window to his profile, which is cast in early afternoon sunlight, making all his edges more harsh. “What branch?”

“Air Force.” He glances at me with a head tilt, measuring my reaction. “Security forces. Basically I was a cop on base.”

I wave a hand around. “Fitting.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “What about you? What do you do?”

“This and that. Whatever I’m in the mood for at the time.”

He huffs a laugh. “What are you in the mood for lately?”

It’s almost sensual, the way he says it. I draw a deep breath. The scent of sandalwood comes off him in waves, filling my lungs. “I took a job managing a gym recently. I sometimes teach classes there in the evening hours, too.”

“Let me guess.” He rolls to a stop at a red light leading to the highway, then angles a smirk at me. I’m fully prepared for him to say something stupid like naked Pilates based on that look, when he surprises me by saying, “Kickboxing.”

I snort, which earns a smile that stretches across his whole face. “Do I strike you as a kickboxer?”

“You strike me as someone who could bring me to my knees.”

“Boooooooo!” I point both thumbs down, and laughter erupts from him in quick spasms.

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