Page 48 of Desiring You

I took a drink of water. “At least by Christmas if I have anything to say about it.”

Molly wrinkled her nose and whacked me again. “Fuck!”

Kiley shot her a glare.

Molly sighed looking defeated. “I mean fizzing frankfurters.” She glanced up at me. “Seriously, why does she have to go? Can’t she just interview people by phone or videocam?”

I tilted my head. “What’s the deal, Molls? Why are you so invested?”

She looked up at me with sad eyes. “That city takes something from her. We’ve started to patch the hole it made in her, but I hate to see her go back there. Can’t you talk her out of it?”

I leaned down close to Molly. “When you love someone, you have to let them go and trust in the strength of the connection. I have to let her go and trust she’ll come back to me.”

Molly gasped. “Hell’s belles, big fella. You do love her.”

I sat back and crossed my arms. I gave an almost imperceptible nod to Molly and she darted off. I didn’t know what she was up to, but I didn’t question her methods. I knew Molly had something to do with all of the happy couples in the room. She had magic in her soul. If she wanted to use a little of it with Phoebe, I wouldn’t stop her.

* * *

On the road home, I chatted Phoebe up about her research. “Who are you interviewing?”

Her eyes were alight with excitement. “I have a few sources that showed me there are additional victims of this serial killer because that’s what I think it is now. They were all brushed under the rug as suicides, so I have FOIA requests in with the police departments and coroner’s office, other sources to tap for information about those women. It seems that before every death, or even during one of them, these models attended a party. If that’s the case, maybe someone saw something that could lead to a suspect. Any scenes. Any stalkers. So, I need to seek out the party people.”

I glanced at her, then back at the road. “Party people?”

Her hands gestured while she spoke a mile a minute. “Yeah, you know. The caterers, photographers, cleaning staff, models hired just to show up at parties, the decorators. The people who make the parties happen where those models were before their deaths.”

I felt my brows furrow. “You’ll be careful, right? You won’t be going to these parties and putting a target on your back?”

Her laughter filled the truck cab. “Oh, hell, no. I’m not going to the parties. I’m just talking to the little people. No one would even give me a second look.”

When her laughter died down, I took her hand. “I would. I do.”

Her lips parted for a second and then she pressed them together. “Ransom.”

I shook my head. “I like looking at you, Raven. I like being with you, laughing with you, and being close. I get why you have to leave, but I’ll miss you.”

There. I said something. It wasn’t everything, but she needed things to move slowly.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll miss you too, Chief. But we’ll talk every day. And I’ll be keeping track of your stats.”

I huffed. Damn stats. “Can’t tell a damn thing by the stats. You know that.”

She snickered. “Yeah. I do.” She paused. “You know, I like being around you too. Even though you’re a grump. I’d be disappointed if you changed. Stay grumpy.”

Was this my opening? “I don’t want you to change either. I wish you didn’t have to leave. I like you at the house, being you. I don’t like the idea of being without you.”

She shook her head. “I’m only leaving for a month. Not even a whole month. We’ve gone far longer than that without seeing each other.”

I swallowed hard and squeezed her hand. “I’ve gotten used to having you around. Seeing you pad around the kitchen in your hippo slippers. Watching you sprawl on the sofa typing up a stupid assignment for Dwyer. Putting your earbuds in and researching while I watch football. And I like having someone to sit outside and gaze at the stars who isn’t complaining how cold it is. Feels more like a home when you’re at my place.”

She sniffed a little. “Aww, that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said.”

I shrugged, looking away. It was damn embarrassing saying this shit, but how else could I get through to her. “Yeah, well, it’s come to my attention that grunting doesn’t really tell you anything. So, I’m trying.”

She leaned closer and hugged my arm. “I see that and I appreciate it. And I like being at your place. It does feel like home. My apartment is going to feel so ridiculously small. Your place has room to stretch, to roam. And that view of the stars is exquisite.”

I glanced over at her. “Just one of the things that makes us so compatible.”

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