Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,73

they explode when you put them in water?”

When Danny didn’t respond, I glanced over only to see his chest rising and falling with his rhythmic breathing. I reached over to quietly turn off the bedside lamp and settled down beside him, propped up on my elbow. The moon was fat and full tonight, so I could still see his profile just fine.

I enjoyed staring at him while he slept.

Admittedly, it was my creepiest behavior by far—and that was saying quite a bit—but I had my reasons. Simply put, he viewed the world through cautious lenses and whether that was from his years of police work, or foster care, or maybe a combination of both, I didn’t know. But, understandably, he was a wary sonofabitch. When he was sleeping, his face was so open and honest, his features relaxed… I might even use the word sweet.

I knew it would be a while before I joined him in dreamland. Adrenaline still rushed through my veins from finally finding the Roses and being able to give them back to their families. It wasn’t nearly enough, but that was a limitation of our department. Most cold case files, whether the victims were classified as “missing” or not, were homicides. We just didn’t know it yet. It was rarely an option to find our victims alive.

I had to settle for bringing them home.

A slight crinkle appeared between Danny’s brows, as if he could sense a disturbance in the atmosphere. There was movement behind his lids for a few seconds before they fluttered a bit and finally lifted. He blinked at me for a moment, clearly a little flummoxed to find us nose to nose. “Rain?”

“Yep.”

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me like that? Or did I wake up just in time to catch you smothering me with a pillow?”

“And if I said it was the latter?”

“Then make it quick.” He yawned. “I have a meeting with Tate tomorrow that I’d like to skip out on.”

“I’m not going to smother you. Yet.” I tilted my head, considering. “Although, this hosting dinner for your mother thing brought me as close as I think I’ll ever be. I was just thinking.”

“Well, can you do your thinking without staring at me like a serial killer?”

“It helps me.” I stared some more. “You have a very strong jaw. You also need to shave.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

His eyes drifted shut a few moments later. Clearly, he wasn’t as bothered by my staring as he claimed. I traced a finger down the slope of his nose. It occurred to me then that I spent a lot of time touching him, and he spent a lot of time letting me. Maybe that was because we knew we were living our second chance every day. And we both knew how rare those were.

I yawned. God, but it was good to have a leg up on Kane. It was time to let him know that the roses didn’t belong to him anymore—they had names. Families. Lives. It was time to show the ultimate puppet master how it felt to have a hand up his rump… and not in that scary but interesting fisting kind of way.

“Wily old bastard,” I muttered.

Danny’s brow quirked. “Did you just call me a wily old bastard?”

“Not you. Kane. I’m picturing how unbelievably pissed he’s going to be that we found the girls without his help.”

“And then?”

“And then he has no leverage,” I said with a frown, still tracing a path along his warm, soft skin. “The game is over and he fucking lost.”

Danny caught my hand as I reached his ear. He kissed the inner side of my wrist. “He’s not going to be happy about that.”

“I know.”

He reached out and brushed my cheek, which still carried a faint bruise from my last skirmish with Kane. “Don’t turn your back on him.”

I stared at him for a moment before giving a short nod.

I wasn’t planning on it.

Chapter 19

Kane was in a strange mood.

In the short time I’d known him, I’d seen a range of emotions. Smug amusement was his favorite. I was familiar with his irritation, which happened often, and his regret, of which there was shockingly little. I was even familiar with his joy—that appeared briefly when he had that first orgasmic drag of a cigarette after a long nicotineless drought. But today was the first day I’d seen him nervous.

He looked a little worse for wear as he puffed on his cigarette. He usually kept