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He snorted and tugged the drawer open, pulled out a pair of soft cotton shorts, and turned. “These are not for me.”

The bed dipped beneath his weight as he sat on the edge beside me. Laying the towel across his bare thigh, he flipped back the sheet that I’d self-consciously pulled over me. The blast of chilled air felt amazing against my hot skin, but goose bumps sprouted along my arms and legs at the sudden change in temperature.

Jameson slowly worked the shorts I was wearing down my legs and then tossed them over his shoulder to the corner of the room. Grabbing the towel, he brushed it along my inner thighs and between my folds, cleaning the lingering wetness from my orgasm—which, embarrassingly, was quite a bit considering none of his was mixed with my own.

“I can do that.” I reached down only for him to smack my hand away playfully. Each cool swipe of the cloth felt amazing, but a sliver of awkwardness kept trying to rise and ruin the sweet moment.

“Never said you couldn’t, but I want to. I want to take care of you. We still have a couple of hours of sleep to get, and I figured you wouldn’t want to do that in soaked shorts.” He chuckled and turned a dramatic grimace down to his own lap. “I know I don’t.”

With one more careful swipe, he situated the clean shorts around my feet and pulled them up. Standing, he shot me a half smile and brushed a single finger over my cheek before he walked out of the bedroom, taking the towel he’d used to clean me with him.

Confused. Worried. Content. All the feelings mixed and fought for dominance.

With a groan, I flopped back on the bed and slapped a hand to my forehead.

Soft footsteps drew my attention to the bedroom door just as Jameson stepped through. Not saying a word, he dropped to the other side of the bed and rolled onto his side, facing me. I squealed in surprise when he hooked his arm around my waist and tugged, sliding me easily along the sheets until I was tucked snug against his chest.

Soft lips pressed to the back of my neck. “Sleep, Raindrop, and dream of me.”

And with a sappy smile, I did just that, giving in to the weight pulling at my lids.

And falling asleep without a single worried thought on my mind.

18

JAMESON

The chair let out a screech as I leaned back, taking in the full expanse of the murder wall. Two days had passed since Rhyan helped me narrow down the profile to add our unsub being a female. Charlie had yet to come up with anything new regarding the murder victims’ pasts, and as it stood, we were at a standstill with the profile.

Caucasian female, late-twenties to early-thirties, patient, methodical, quiet with underlying anger at the world that would come out at work and home, and physically strong.

That was all I had for the Santa Coasta police force to help them identify the unsub.

Being here as many days as I had, we should have a decent list of suspects compiled based on the profile, yet we had zero.

Frustrated didn’t describe how I felt.

How weallfelt.

The corner of my lip quirked in a half smirk. Well, Slade was definitely more frustrated than Rain and me, considering he was stuck working alongside us knowing something was going on there. Though we were all equally annoyed by the lack of movement in the case. None of us wanted another innocent person to fall victim to the killer, but we needed more evidence and hopefully for the unsub to make a fucking mistake.

Behind me, the office door whooshed open and slammed against the wall. The subsequent grumbled curses told me exactly who’d joined me. I swiveled around, my smile shifting to a grimace at seeing Slade for the first time today. To say he looked like shit was an understatement. The slightly pale skin and dark circles under his eyes made it clear this case was wearing on him both mentally and physically. Though I wasn’t sure if it was the case or his feelings for Rain that kept him up at night.

“What’s that creepy look for?” he grumbled. “You look like you shit your pants or ate something bad.”

“Where have you been all day? I’ve missed my work bestie.” I chuckled when he flipped me off, and swiveled back around. “Not that you missed anything new. This case is pissing me off.”

“You and me both. Between this case and the others I spent today catching up on, I’m fucking stressed to the max with all the loose ends.”

“I know a great way to ease some of that stress,” I replied offhandedly, trying to keep my smile hidden.

Slade huffed. “Yeah, me too. A three-week vacation, then walking away from all this without a second look back.”

Shocked at that unexpected statement, I whirled around, eyes wide. Propped against the wall, eyes closed, Slade looked seconds away from falling asleep standing up. Concern for my new grumpy and occasionally scary-as-fuck friend urged me out of the chair to take a tentative step closer to the massive man. If he fell over, it would probably register on the Richter scale somewhere and cause a whole to-do. We had enough on our plate as it was, plus Rain wasn’t around if he hurt himself.

“You’d walk away from this job, the families and victims counting on you for closure?”

He peeled his lids open, though it appeared to take monumental effort. Damn, he really looked terrible. “You mean the late nights, no sleep, constant stress, only being kept alive by gallons of shit coffee? You’re romanticizing it, Bend. The past few days have shown me it’s time for me to move on.”

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