Page 58 of The Harborer
“Why don’t you just turn it off?”
“Someone else might need to reach me.” She got up to wash her hands in the bathroom, her shoulders droopy. God, he hated to see the way Micky dampened her vibrant spirit.
Amy had given Micky his own individual chime—the car horn—and the damn thing had sounded at least ten times since they’d rocked each other’s worlds. Shane darted his gaze toward the bathroom door before swiping her device from the nightstand. Maybe he would shut it off and do them both a favor. He began to scroll through her messages, knowing he shouldn’t, all while telling himself he was investigating—and that was his job, right? He had to assess whether she was in any kind of danger.
She was right about the text being the same—a desperate-sounding variation ofCall me. They’d begun as orders but had slid into pathetic pleas. Except for one.
Micky:Keep your mouth shut or you will blow this.
What the hell didthatmean?
Shane placed the phone back in its spot.
“Is he telling me to call him again?” Amy stood framed in the bathroom doorway, eyes glistening in the dark as they fastened on him.
Busted.
“Yeah. Sorry. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t escalating into threats.” She glided toward him through the shadows, and as she drew nearer, he realized her mouth was curved in a half-smile. “You’re not pissed about me snooping?”
“Is that what you were doing?” Her voice held a teasing quality. “I’m not pissed, Deputy.” She slid under the covers and scooted close, her arm touching his as she sat beside him. “I don’t have anything to hide.”
The remark settled his doubts. A guilty person would have reacted, maybe blown a gasket about him looking at private messages.
“Nothing to hide? Then why are you wearing that T-shirt? Maybe you should take it off.”
She rewarded him with an eye-roll and a smirk.
His fingers skated across her smooth cheek, and she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch with a sigh. “Are you feeling guilty?” she asked.
He halted his movements. “About what?”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “You banged your friend’s girlfriend.”
“Let’s get the facts straight. You’re anex-girlfriend, Micky’s not my friend, and I wouldn’t call what we did ‘banging.’ It sounds way too crude.”
Amusement danced in her eyes. “What do you call it, then?”
He gave her a salacious grin. “Profound fucking.”
She burst out with a laugh that loosened the knot in his chest. “And that’snotcrude?”
Hand cradling her cheek, he nuzzled her ear. “No. It’s epic. Mind-blowing. On a whole other level I had no idea existed.” He drew back and peered into her eyes. “How about you? Are you okay with this? Or are you feeling guilty?”
She sighed. “Part of me says I should, but I don’t, whichalmostmakes me feel guilty. Am I a bad person?”
His thumb stroked her jaw. “Never.”
“Maybe I’m blowing smoke up my own apron, but I keep telling myself things were over between Micky and me months ago. We were living like roommates, and the breakup was long overdue. Therefore, what you and I are doing can’t be wrong, can it?”
“So you didn’t …” Breath caught in his chest.
She shook her head. “No. Sex was one of the few things we had in common, and when that went by the wayside, I realized it left us with absolutely nothing.” Her dark eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about sex with someone else while I’m, um, in bed with you.” The tip of her nose turned bright pink.
He picked up her hand and squeezed it. “It’s fine, Amy.” And he meant it because inside, he was dancing a jig knowing she and Micky hadn’t been intimate for a while. Yeah, he could admit to himself he had embraced the whole chest-pounding, possessive caveman crap. “I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded a little shaky, as if she had something more to confess. Apparently, she did. “Something’s been going on with Micky lately. He’s gone a lot, and I think he’s having an affair, or he might be up to something sketchy. He’s acting … off. I’m worried about him.”
That worry was etched in the soft lines bracketing her eyes and mouth. A spike of annoyance inside Shane startled him. Micky didn’t deserve an ounce of Amy’s empathy. He muscled it down and slid into his investigative persona. “How is he off? Describe his behavior for me.”
