Page 28 of Choose Me

He grinned. "I had to call my mom for help because I had no idea what babies need, but I wanted to do something special for my little nephew or niece. And for you, of course." He quickly averted his gaze like he was embarrassed. "Is it too much?"

"No!" I went to him and threw my arms around him, and he rested his chin on my head. I inhaled his scent, and the smell of amber filled my nostrils. It comforted me, and I grew fond of Everett's presence since he had moved in.

He hugged me back, and I could hear his heart beating quickly against my ear. "I wanted to bring the good parts of Oregon here. My mom says that gray and white are neutral colors in the baby world and that when you find out what the baby is, it will be easy to match colors to it."

"It's perfect. Thank you so much, Everett." I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe you did all of this for me."

"I know the past month and a half has been hard for you, so I wanted to help take some of the stress away. That way, you can focus as much as possible on just bringing the baby into the world."

I lifted my head to look at him, tears running down my cheeks. "Thank you. I honestly don't know what I would do without you."

He smiled, wiping away a tear that had escaped down my cheek. "Anything for you, baby girl."

I stared into his piercing amber eyes, and my stomach quivered in anticipation. The atmosphere between us had shifted, and I could feel the heat rising between us. I could see the desire in his eyes, and I knew he could also see it in mine. I felt his hands move down my back as he drew me closer to him. I could feel his hard body pressing against mine, and I knew I wanted him more than I ever had before.

My phone ringing broke through the silence, snapping us both out of our trance. Shame flooded through me as I ran out of the room to answer it, leaving behind an unfulfilled desire and guilt that was painfully palpable.

16

SIXTEEN

JAMES

Today had been a long and exhausting day. Brock and I had gone to check another location--a halfway house, where someone reported they had seen Margaret hiding out. We raced there only to find her gone, leaving behind nothing but a tattered blanket and some empty cans of soup. Forensics did their job collecting evidence and determined the items left behind were covered in Margaret's DNA.

As Brock and I walked back to his car, my head was spinning with questions. We were both running on fumes, but the small victories kept us going, even if Brock had to remind me that it would all be worth it. We both knew that the longer Margaret was on the run, the more likely she would get overconfident, and when she slipped up, we would be there. But right now, the small victory was Brock's much-deserved promotion to Supervisory Team Leader and now the senior leader in charge of the Criminal Division.

The bar he drove us to was called El Cereza, and it was dimly lit, with dark wood paneling and a smoky atmosphere. We were greeted by stale air and the hum of hushed conversations. The walls were oak plank boards painted black, barely illuminated by amber lighting. We took a seat at the bar and ordered two beers as we waited for the others to arrive. I swirled my beer around the glass absentmindedly as the door opened and our team descended in. Laughter echoed off the tight walls, competing with Brock's booming voice that filled the space with joyous cheers over his promotion. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of so many of his colleagues huddled around him, toasting his promotion, and I couldn't think of anyone else who deserved it more than him.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere in the bar grew more relaxed. We swapped stories of our most challenging cases, each more gruesome than the last. The music was loud, and our team was getting rowdier, their laughter echoing throughout the bar.

"Hey, stranger." A presence at my side crooned. I whipped around to find Agent Scarlett slinking into the bar stool beside me. She wore a sultry red blouse that dipped low in the front, paired with tight leather pants. Her lips were ruby red, and her blonde hair hung in tight curls around her face.

As she fixed me with her steely gaze, I couldn't help but let my eyes travel down her body, taking in every inch of her curves before settling back on her face. Her full lips were curved into a sly smile, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. I felt a surge of desire wash over me, and I couldn't help the way my body reacted to her proximity.

"Agent Scarlett, I didn't realize you were here."

"I wouldn't miss the chance to celebrate the accomplishments of Brock." She smirked and leaned in closer to me, her lips almost brushing against my ear. "Oh, and off-duty, you can call me Sydney." She leaned back and ran her tongue along her teeth in a slow circle.

"I prefer to keep things professional." I took another sip of my beer and tried to ignore her. The alcohol was taking its toll on me, and I started feeling restless. The music was too loud, the lights were too dim, and my head was pounding to the beat of my heart.

"Let's dance." She purred, prying my hand from my sweaty pint glass, and pulled me to the dance floor with surprising strength. Once I stood up, the alcohol fully hit my system, and it took more energy than I had to resist her. Her body was pressed against mine, her hips grinding into my crotch as she moved her body to the beat. I tried to pull away, but her hands just slid over mine until they reached behind my neck, pulling me in closer than before. Her lips brushed my neck, her breath hot against my skin. I felt lightheaded and dizzy, struggling to stay upright.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered, her teeth nipping at my ear. "I know a place where we can really celebrate."

"I need to go. Please let go of me." My words were slurred, and I felt like I was going to get sick. Her grasp on me was unrelenting. Bony, slender fingers wrapped around my arms, her nails digging painfully into my flesh, pulling me toward her. Her smell filled my nostrils--sweat mixed with a cloying scent of cheap perfume that turned my stomach sour. No matter how much I protested or pushed her away, she refused to be deterred and continued to push herself on me until our faces were inches apart. Her lips crashed into mine as she assaulted my mouth with her tongue. My body was betraying me, responding to her touch, and I couldn't control it.

Ava.

Her face seared into my brain, and I flung Sydney away from me. "Get the fuck off of me." I snarled, suddenly feeling sober.

"Don't fight it," she cooed, inching toward me again. "You know you want me."

"The fuck I do." I shoved her back harshly, fury blazing in her eyes. Before I could take another step away from her, her nails clawed into my face like the talons of a hawk. I hastily grasped her wrists, attempting to pry her hands away, but she was on a rampage, and it felt like I was fighting off a badger.

"Whoa, whoa, hey! What the hell is going on?" Brock appeared by my side and pulled her off of me.

"She kissed me, and I tried to get her away from me," I stammered.

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