Page 37 of Make Me Love You

Chapter Ten

Eli had just kicked off his boots and was on his way to the fridge to grab a beer and see what he could throw together for dinner. It had been a long day of work that included a domestic disturbance at seven a.m. Seven was technically before his shift even started, but Billy Combs had chosen that time to finally return home—drunk, of course—and hit his wife for not having breakfast ready for him. There had also been a loose dog to round up, because Hart’s Ridge didn’t have Animal Control, and several speeding tickets.

The interlude at Goat’s Tavern with Emma hadn’t helped. All it had done was ratchet up the tension in him until he felt as taut as an arrow on a bowstring. One slight motion would send him flying.

He hadn’t eaten anything there, either. Once he realized Emma had left, he’d lost his appetite and headed home. Now it was late, and he was cranky as hell. The last thing he felt like doing was cooking dinner, but his only other option was to order pizza for the third time that week. Hart’s Ridge had a lot of things going for it, in Eli’s opinion, but takeout at ten p.m. wasn’t one of them.

But he could have a beer, even if he drank it with a bowl of cereal instead of a real dinner.

At least, that was the plan until he heard the knock on the door.

Eli looked around the spare living room, wondering if he had imagined it. It didn’t look like the sort of place people dropped by unexpectedly to hang out, because it wasn’t. It was the exact opposite of where he had grown up, in a house stuffed full of furniture his mom had selected. His dad couldn’t bear to part with any of it, no matter how much it fell apart in later years.

Eli followed a different philosophy when it came to home décor. The furnishings in his one-bedroom house were sparse: a recliner, a coffee table, a television. But the recliner was made from buttery-soft leather, the coffee table was from a local shop that handmade furniture from recycled lumber and iron, and the television was a fifty-five-inch flat screen. Eli liked nice things, and he liked to treat himself. Who would, if not him?

He didn’t even keep an extra chair for guests. Who would sit in it? For the first time, it occurred to him that he didn’t have much in the way of true friends. Lots of friendly acquaintances, sure. But no one who would come over to hang out. If he wanted to see Luke, he went to the tavern.

So it wasn’t a friend at the door, he was certain of that. It wasn’t likely to be someone needing his services as a police officer, either. If someone needed something this late at night, they weren’t going to waste time driving here to collect him. They were going to call.

The knock came again. Not his imagination. Just in case, he checked his phone on the way to the door. No, he hadn’t missed a call or text.

Which meant—

His pulse quickened, pumping blood south even before he opened the door. There was only one person he could think of who would show up on his doorstep this late at night, and only one thing she could want.

He jerked the door open, and even though he expected her, even though his body was already preparing, he was still stunned into silence at the sight of Emma on his doorstep. She stood there, pale hair swirling around her shoulders in a gleaming mass, eyes narrowed, arms crossed under her breasts. Looking mad as a wildcat and twice as lethal.

His mouth went dry. He couldn’t hear over the sudden roaring in his ears. He stepped back, giving her space, hoping she took the gesture as an offer to follow him in.

She did. The moment she stepped over the threshold, he shut the door behind her. Not that he thought she would change her mind, but he didn’t want to make the option too appealing, either.

“What are you doing here, Ms. Andrews?”

Her gray eyes flashed at that. It was a dangerous game, egging her on when she was clearly already in a murderous state of mind, but a game he couldn’t resist playing. Maybe if he got her mad enough, she would finally do something about it.

“I couldn’t sleep.” The words were an accusation. “I’m exhausted. Usually I can’t keep my eyes open past nine. I have to be up at five. But I can’t sleep.”

Good. He hadn’t slept right since the morning he’d walked into City Hall and discovered they would be working together. It was only fair that he returned the favor.

He headed for the kitchen. It was the only way to stop himself from dropping to his knees and begging her to put them both out of their misery. Just for a night. Just so they could get some goddamn sleep. “Do you want something to drink?” He opened the fridge, pulled out two beers.

She shook her head. “I already tried that. It didn’t work.”

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