Page 106 of Hero Mine

The implication in her tone sent heat coursing through him. He drove a little faster toward her house.

When they pulled into her driveway, he leaned across the console to kiss her, lingering just long enough to make it difficult to leave.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised against her lips.

“Count on it.” She gave him one more quick kiss before stepping out of the truck.

Bear watched her walk to her front door, waiting until she was safely inside before backing out of the driveway. As he headed toward Route 16, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. The mystery was solved, the kids were on a better path, and Joy would be waiting for him later.

All things considered, it had been a pretty perfect day.

Chapter30

Joy hummed softly as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel around her body. Steam billowed around her, fogging the mirror and filling the small bathroom with warmth. She couldn’t stop smiling as she thought about the day.

Not only had they solved the mystery of the thefts, but Bear’s interaction with those boys had shown a side of him that made her heart swell. The way he’d turned punishment into opportunity, mentorship instead of condemnation—it was exactly who he was at his core.

“And he loves me,” she whispered to her reflection as she wiped a circle in the fog-covered mirror. The words had slipped out so naturally from him, as if he’d been saying them to her all his life.

Joy rubbed her hair with a second towel, drying the brown strands as she padded into her bedroom. The evening stretched ahead of her with possibility. She’d pack an overnight bag, grab that blue lingerie set Bear hadn’t seen yet, and head to his place. The thought sent a delicious shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cooling air against her damp skin.

She dropped her towel, reaching for her favorite lotion on the dresser—and paused.

The bottle wasn’t where she’d left it.

Joy stared at the spot, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her brows. She distinctly remembered placing it on the right side of the dresser this morning. Now, it sat on the left.

“Stop it,” she muttered to herself. “You’re being paranoid again.”

She refused to lose the ground she’d gained.

She snatched the lotion and applied it with quick, efficient strokes, refusing to dwell on the misplaced item. Things got moved. She forgot where she put things. It happened to everyone.

But as she pulled on leggings and a soft sweater, a nagging feeling persisted. Determined to shake it off, she marched downstairs to grab a glass of water before packing. The wooden steps creaked familiarly beneath her bare feet.

In the kitchen, she filled a glass from the tap and leaned against the counter. Everything was okay. She wasn’t going to let anything derail this day.

She set her empty glass in the sink and turned to head back upstairs—and froze.

The framed photo on her windowsill caught her eye. Something wasn’t right.

She moved closer, her heart beginning to quicken. The picture—her favorite one of her parents on their thirtieth anniversary—was turned at a different angle. She always kept it facing exactly toward the kitchen table, where she could see their smiles while she ate breakfast. She remembered looking at it this morning. Now, it was angled toward the door.

“I didn’t move this,” she whispered, her fingers hovering over the silver frame.

She glanced around the kitchen, searching for other signs of disturbance. The salt and pepper shakers were reversed. The drawer that held her dish towels was slightly ajar—she always closed it fully because it tended to stick.

She wasn’t going to ignore her instincts anymore. And she wasn’t going to hide this from Bear. She picked up her phone and dialed his number.

He answered on the first ring. “Hey, Bug. I’m going to be back sooner than I thought. Should be?—”

“Bear,” she interrupted, her voice low and tight. “I think someone’s been in my house.”

A beat of silence. “Are you sure?”

“Stuff has been moved. Things I know I didn’t do.”

No questioning. No skepticism. Just immediate, unwavering trust. “I’m on my way. Five minutes. Don’t touch anything in case there are fingerprints.”

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