Page 7 of Mine to Share

“Probably not. Even if I explained it wouldn’t make sense.” Wasn’t that the truth? Explaining the random thoughts that popped in my head, refusing to leave me alone, was impossible since even I didn’t understand most of them.

Intrusive thoughts. That was the term they used nowadays. And aptly named for me. These random thoughts usually came from some memory that randomly popped up, sometimes relevant, other times not.

When I was in the zone, alone with a body—which sounded way worse than it actually was—I could focus. It was when I was alone that my mind wandered, which was most of my time outside work since I had zero friends or family in town. Most nights were spent at home with yet another delivered meal while I watched whatever latest Netflix show caught my attention.

And maybe that was all I was destined for in this life. Though I would take the lonely nights over walking on eggshells every day like I had with Josh.

“I also came down here to fill you in on those four cases you linked,” Slade stated.

“Oh?” I checked the clock and sighed. If I stayed to hear what he had to say, there wouldn’t be enough time to go home and change, but I really wanted to know what Slade thought of my findings. “Do you want some coffee?”

“If it’s your good stuff, not the shit upstairs.”

“Of course, it’s my good stuff,” I said, a smirk pulling at my lips. I’d already cleaned and put away all my tools, so the only thing left was to send my report and log off. And with Slade’s help, I stored the body in her assigned drawer in record time.

Slade followed closely as I pushed through the swinging doors of the morgue and stepped across the hall to my small office. It wasn’t a large space, but I didn’t need much since most of my time was spent next door with the bodies. Grabbing two mugs, I placed one under the Nespresso machine, popped a caramel-flavored pod I knew Slade liked into it, and pushed the lever down.

Turning, I found Slade already sitting on the small teal love seat, leaning back with both arms stretched out along the back. My stomach flipped at the delicious vision. The top button of his white dress shirt was undone, giving a glimpse of the golden tan skin beneath. Both large, tattooed hands dangled on either side of the couch, drawing my attention to each thick digit.

“You okay there, Rain?”

“Yep,” I wheezed, my breathing too shallow as I imagined those fingers dancing along my fair skin.

Not in my league. Not in my league.

“So, tell me more about this dead fucker you’re meeting with tonight.” My gaze jerked from his thrumming fingers to his jade-green eyes. I narrowed my own, not understanding his words. “You’re taking this guy to a bar where everyone knows you and is over-the-top protective of their own.”

This time, the wave of disappointment had a thick ball of emotions clogging my throat.

Of course, he didn’t say that because he was possessive of me but because of all the cops who would be there tonight. And me working as their only ME in Santa Coasta meant I was one of them. Even if most gave me a wide berth when we passed in the hall or at crime scenes.

I liked to think it was because of my job, though I knew most thought I was on the wrong side of quirky, leaning more toward fucking weird.

“Right. Should’ve thought about that before choosing a location. Um, he lives close to San Diego, so he’s driving up to meet me here and does something in accounting.” Slade’s incredulous huff cut off my next words. “Is his job funny?”

“For someone like you, yeah.”

Hands on my hips, I shot him an annoyed glare across the room, ignoring the freshly brewed coffee at my back. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Leaning forward, he pressed both elbows onto his thick thighs, his clasped hands dangling between his spread knees. “He won’t understand you.”

With an eye roll, I whirled around. Finger hooked into the handle, I held the steaming mug and turned back, a response on the tip of my tongue.

But all words fled my brain upon finding him just a step away instead of on the couch where I last saw him. Eyes locked on me, he carefully took the mug, a single hand completely engulfing the hot ceramic.

“I didn’t mean that the way you’re taking it. I’m saying he won’t understand what goes into our jobs. No one does unless they’re in this life.”

“So, you’re saying all those women you date, theyunderstandyou?” I arched a brow and crossed both arms over my chest.

His gaze dipped lower before locking back on my face.

“I don’t date,” he whispered, closing the short distance between us.

Heat flushed beneath my skin at his proximity. “Yes, you do,” I whispered.

“Dating and fucking are different things, Rain.” I swallowed down the whimper that wanted to escape at hearing that word in his deep, gruff voice. “So no, I don’t date. Not when I know it would be pointless.”

“Why is that?” Needing to break the strange intensity building between us, I turned, my shaking fingers gripping the other mug and placing it beneath the machine.

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