take the plunge?
She leaned close enough to rest her head on his shoulder. “How can you be certain it’s the right person?”
“There’s nothing guaranteed in this life, but I know what my heart is telling me.”
“What’s that?”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “To grab on tight and refuse to let go.”
The flutters became a flurry of exhilaration. She could barely breathe. “It’s . . .”
“What?”
“A little scary,” she admitted.
His lips skimmed to nuzzle her temple, his arm wrapping around her. Then, without warning, he was scooping her off the cushion to settle her in his lap. “Of all the things that are scary right now, this is the only thing that feels right,” he told her.
She snuggled against his chest, refusing to allow the thought of the killer to shadow this moment. Tomorrow they would once again be on the hunt. Tonight was for them.
“I suppose that’s true, although I should warn you that my life is crazy even without a serial killer on the loose,” she warned. “I think one of the reasons my father never remarried was because he knew he made a terrible husband, and I’m just as bad. I miss dinners, sleep through movies, and show up to birthday parties covered in mud and smelling like cow dung.”
His fingers trailed up and down her spine, igniting sparks of passion that made her quiver with longing. “I’ve eaten a lot of dinners alone, you can snore on my shoulder during any movie you want, and we’ll make a joint agreement to avoid birthday parties if you happen to be smelling dung-like,” he told her.
“I’m serious, Kir.”
He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting back her head to meet his teasing gaze. “Me too. I love you, but I draw the line at cow dung and birthday cake.”
She jerked. There it was. The “L” word.
“Kir,” she breathed.
He smiled down at her. “I’m not taking it back. You’re just going to have to get used to having me around.”
She licked her lips. “And if you decide you want to leave Pike again?”
He lowered his head, capturing her lips in a slow, searching kiss. “You’ve taught me an important lesson, Dr. Lynne Gale,” he said against her mouth.
Barely aware she was moving, Lynne lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. “What lesson?”
“Home isn’t a place,” he told her. “It’s a feeling.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. And in the end, it didn’t matter. Not when he gently laid her on the cushions of the sofa and stretched out beside her. King grumbled at being dislodged and padded into the kitchen. Lynne and Kir barely noticed his departure as their lips locked and their bodies pressed together in a fierce, overwhelming need.
* * *
Lynne woke to discover herself alone on the sofa with a heavy cover tucked around her naked body. She yawned, reaching for her phone, which she’d left on the coffee table. Almost six o’clock. How had she slept so late?
A blush stained her cheeks as she recalled how she’d spent the previous evening. It’d been past midnight when she’d finally fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was no wonder she’d overslept this morning.
Tossing aside the blanket, Lynne pulled on her clothes and headed into the kitchen. She discovered a hot pot of coffee waiting for her and a recently fed King sleeping near the floor vent. But no Kir.
Usually at this point, Lynne would be sending up a silent prayer of thanks that her lover had the good sense to slip away. She preferred to wake alone. It allowed her to avoid the awkward morning after.
This morning, however, she knew beyond a doubt that Kir would never have left her without waking her to tell her where he was going. So where was he?
Moving through the house, she tracked him down in the back study.
Her breath lodged in her throat as she stood in the open door and studied the man who’d burrowed his way into her heart. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, but his hair hadn’t been combed and there was a shadow of whiskers on his jaw. His dishevelment did nothing to dim his potent masculinity. In fact, it only made him more attractive. At the moment, however, she refused to acknowledge the tempting tingles of awareness that spread through her.
Instead she watched as he crouched next to a box, pulling out old photo albums and stacks of folders. “How long have you