Page 4 of Mine to Share

“Thank you, but I’m good. I’ll reach out once I’ve landed and settled.”

Her lips parted, brows pulled in tight as she started to respond, but I ended the video call before she could get a word out. I’d no doubt get a text shortly with her apologizing for overstepping, but I knew she only meant well.

Rolling my shoulders, I shifted in the plush leather seat, but it didn’t help me refocus on the case. Instead, my admission to Rhyan kept nagging at me to look deeper into my self-identified issue. I wanted control in most aspects of my life, but I wasn’t controlling toward others. Unless they didn’t have a plan in place—then I’d shift into an annoying, controlling asshole to get shit done. I was a sucker for a solid, easily executable plan. Which all made me a damn good detective because I hated loose ends.

Though none of that translated into what I wanted behind closed doors.

There, I didn’t want to think, have to decide or overanalyze everything like I did in every other aspect of my life. Which made Tallon and me perfect partners those years we’d shared lovers. He liked to control every aspect of the scene, and I enjoyed rolling with his orders, knowing he’d keep everything mutually beneficial for everyone involved.

It was a unique relationship; one I’d only had with him. Until it all ended the first time when his sister went missing, then again most recently when he started a solo relationship with Remy, a past hookup of ours. When I wasn’t sharing with Tallon, I settled for one-night stands, which was fine, just not as exciting or fulfilling on my own. Though I wouldn’t say my unique interests in the bedroom were the only reason my relationships never worked out long term.

The demanding job of a homicide detective in a large city like Nashville and now as a profiler, flying around the US with little to no notice, didn’t make relationships easy. No woman wanted to be constantly left behind or ignored for a new murder case, or plans always changing because of a fresh lead. The job as a detective was all-consuming, and so far from what I’d seen, so was being an FBI profiler.

Which meant I was shit out of luck in the love life department.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax into the seat. The random hookups were fine, scratching an itch for myself and my partner for the night. Though, if I was honest with myself, even those were becoming draining instead of leaving me recharged for a few weeks.

I longed for a connection with a partner beyond the initial physical attraction. Missed the deeper aspects of a relationship, a friend and lover wrapped in one. I wanted that in someone—or really two someones—long term. But that wasn’t possible.

Not for someone with fucked-up needs like mine.

What I craved in a relationship wasn’t what people wanted in the long run. Group activities in the bedroom were just a fling, a way to check something wild off their sexual bucket list.

No one wanted to share in a committed relationship. To have one woman you both gave everything to because your everything was only half of what they truly deserved.

No one but me.

2

RAIN

“Iknow it’s a risk, okay?” I admitted with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s just… I’m not meeting anyone the traditional way, so online dating it is.” My chair rolled along the floor with each of my jerky movements, unable to keep myself still. Eyeing the clock, I cringed. I needed to leave soon if I wanted to go home and freshen up before the date I was half dreading, half excited for. “No one here looks at me in that way, not when they know what I do.”

Inhaling a slow, calming breath, I allowed my lids to flutter closed and counted to ten before releasing it through tight lips.

“I chose a busy bar just down the road, just in case he turns out to be a serial killer and wants to turn me into a skin suit. I’ll be fine.” Not sure who I was convincing here. “I just need to remember to not say anything weird,” I grumbled as I stood. Shooting Caroline Pickard a sad smile, I strode toward the steel table she lay on. “So that means no talking about work. At all.” Which sucked since work was basically my whole life. “Don’t blurt any random, awkward-as-hell-even-in-my-mind comments or thoughts. And most of all, do not compare this guy to you-know-who.”

Because no one could. I knew that. Hell, even Caroline knew that, and she was dead.

As if the simple act of thinking about him conjured his overwhelming presence, the door behind me swung open, nearly banging against the opposite wall. It had taken me the last eighteen months to get Detective Slade Taylor to consciously use less force when entering the morgue. As a result, the wall hadn’t needed repairs in weeks.

“You got anything for me, Rain?”

My name on his lips sent a shiver racing down my spine like it always did. Something about his deep rumbling tone did strange things to my body, making it tingle and pulse with just a few words.

This was clue number one out of a hundred that I needed to jump back into the dating game, to find a man who I was not only crazy-attracted to but also available. The always-grouchy, built-like-a-Roman-gladiator Detective Slade was only one of those two things. Not because he was married or engaged or even dating anyone, but he wasn’t available to me.

And only me, considering the line of women he’d left in his wake for the two years we’d worked together.

It was painful, having this intense crush on a man I worked with day in and day out only to remain invisible in his eyes. Sure, he valued me as the only ME in Santa Coasta, but that was all Slade saw. He’d never come right out and said he wasn’t as attracted to me as I was to him, but I knew without him having to tell me. There were no long looks, no striking up casual conversations to get to know me better. Though, being fair, he didn’t do that with anyone at the station. Plus, the man who could easily be an underwear model instead of a detective was way out of my league. He went out with gorgeous actresses or runway models, not women like me.

Normal.

Well, normal was subjective.

I did just have a one-sided conversation about my dating life with a dead woman, so….

With my back to him, an attempt to keep my focus on work instead of noting every perfect inch of the massive man, I scanned the body in front of me, mentally cataloging everything I’d just written in my report. Though the report was a formality, considering Slade preferred to hear my findings straight from me.

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