Page 37 of Concealed

Hopefully starting immediately.

“Let’s not start something that we can’t go back from in a public place,” I say.

“It would be rather ironic if you were arrested for indecent exposure.”

I groan. “I’d never live that one down.” I give her a crooked grin. “It’d be worth it though. You’d be worth it.”

When she smiles, it completely transforms her face, as though all the weight from the anxiety that she carries around all day has finally eased up. I wish like hell that I could make sure no one ever takes the light from her eyes again.

Matt deserves the ass-kicking of a lifetime.

I take her hand and lead her back to the truck, a million unanswered questions between us. Rebecca fills the silence because I’m incapable of talking with my thoughts racing a mile a minute, desperately trying to figure out what should happen next.

As we drive home, she tells me about growing up with Gabe living a few houses down from hers, and gives me a few gems that I’ll be able to tease him about until the end of time.

Who would have believed my burly former partner was afraid of spiders, cried while watching The Lion King, or used to get his ass handed to him on the basketball court by the pint-size beauty next to me?

Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to call him tomorrow.

When we walk into the house, I hesitate. There’s nothing I want more than to pick up exactly where we left off, but it only seems right that Rebecca should be in the drivers’ seat.

Like losing your virginity, I’m sure your first post-escape encounter has meaning, and she might not want it to be with me.

The thought makes me a bit homicidal toward the fictitious guy who she wants instead, but hey.

“Thank you so much for tonight.” She’s talking to me, but staring at the floor.

Maybe she’s too afraid to do something that we can’t go back from, and I get it. The morning after walk of shame can be brutal enough, let alone if you live with the person and are supposed to act like nothing happened.

“My pleasure.”

Fuck, I wish that I could stop thinking about the way she tastes – strawberries, cream, and a unique, sexy blend that is exclusive to her. She’s addictive as hell.

“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, maybe?” Her voice is more of a squeak, so maybe our post-dinner walk was just a test, and she isn’t actually into me.

But you can’t fake the response she gave me, or all of her involuntary gasps and moans I was swallowing when I kissed her.

“I hope so.” My job is so unpredictable that I can’t make any promises, but coming home to her is quickly becoming the best part of my day.

At least she isn’t running for the stairs this time, but my heart still sinks when she walks away. Despite the fucked-up way we met, I really like her, and I want to be part of her story.

I want to be the guy who reminds her how incredible she is when she forgets, and who gives her the safety and security she needs to live her life in peace.

Even though all my buddies would kick my ass for saying something so lame, I’m craving something down to my DNA, and it’s not just her body.

I want to be her hero.

“And, Wyatt?” She turns and looks over her shoulder, flashing a shy smile that stops my heart. “That was one hell of a kiss.”

They probably shouldn’t bother making schedules for cops because I can’t remember the last time I stuck to mine. I’m working a double today, and Rebecca wasn’t awake when I left the house. I don’t know what “morning after” awkwardness would have greeted me, so maybe it’s for the best we both have some space.

Not caring what time it is, I call Gabe on my way to the station. He answers on the first ring.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

After I tease him about all the new information I learned last night, I say, “Tell me about Rebecca before she met Matt.”

Gabe pauses but then answers my request without badgering me with twenty of his own questions. “She had a long-term boyfriend before Matt who cheated on her, but he wasn’t abusive – at least as far as I know. She still came to family functions, she still saw her friends, and she still had a life.”

---