“Yes, a street kid, not a criminal mastermind.”
He gave her a squeeze and dipped his face close to hers at the same time he dipped his voice low and said, “Baby, I’m a cop. Just trust I know what I’m talkin’ bout. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispered immediately and it wasn’t lost on Chace that that wasn’t the first time he called her baby and, after, she immediately gave in.
He filed this away for future reference then asked, “What’s next in your scheduled haul?”
“My scheduled haul?”
“For the kid.”
“Oh,” she said quietly then, unfortunately, her hands moved but fortunately they only moved so she could c**k her arms to her sides and rest them flat on his chest so she moved but didn’t move away. She then kept talking. “More food. Cereal this time, I think, so I’ll need to get him more milk. Maybe a bowl, plate, spoon, fork, knife and a sleeping bag just in case he’s sleeping rough.” Her eyes drifted away and she muttered, “I’ll go to the mall tonight after work. I promised him another stash tomorrow.” She focused back on him. “And I’ll write another note. Introduce myself, tell him a little about me. So, you know, maybe if he starts to get to know me he might begin to trust me.”
“My turn,” Chace replied. “I’ll get the food and the sleeping bag and I’ll bring it, pizza and beer to your place tonight. I’ll be there at seven.”
That got him another blink and when she was done he saw it bought him that look of hers, eyes wide, lips parted, shock, wonder, f**king cute.
“Pizza and beer at my place?” she whispered.
“Seven,” he didn’t whisper but said that one word firm.
Her chin suddenly tipped down so she could look at her hands on his chest. Then her eyes darted around as her body got tight and he knew she was finally realizing where she was and therefore belatedly freaking out.
To contain this, he kept his one arm tight at her waist and slid the other hand out of her hair but did it gliding his fingers through it then feeling it drift over his hand as he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder blades.
“Faye,” he called and her eyes darted to him.
“What’s happening?” Her question was quiet.
“Honey, cast your mind back,” he urged gently. “Two minutes ago, I was kissin’ you. Three days ago, I was dancin’ with you. You know what’s happening.”
She shook her head and stammered, “I… I…” With visible effort she pulled it together and went on, even quieter this time, “The last time I kissed –”
Chace cut her off, “This time I kissed you.”
“Is there a distinction?” she asked.
“I told you I didn’t like surprises. You surprised me. I didn’t react very well.”
Her spine straightened. He saw it and this time felt it and her eyes narrowed when she agreed, “No, you really didn’t.”
What he did f**ked her up. He knew it then, he knew it now. He hated it then, he hated it now. He was lucky as all hell to be standing right where he was and he knew that too.
But since he was and she wasn’t throwing a shit fit, pushing him off or shutting down, he took that as a sign and powered through.
“You’re right,” he whispered, holding her narrowed eyes. “I really didn’t.”
She put slight pressure on his chest and snapped, “You’re giving me mixed messages, Detective Keaton.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
Hearing her call him that, denying him something he’d come to love in the expanse of two weeks, thinking for years he’d never get his shot to hold the town’s pretty librarian in his arms just as he was doing right then. What he’d just endured with Bonar, all that coming back up. Faye being angry, pulling away. Something he’d been keeping a tenuous hold on for a long f**king time snapped inside him and he instantly decided to power through a different way.
He put not slight pressure on her entire body, his arms tightening, his frame pressing her into the door, his face getting close and he growled, “Right then, here’s one that isn’t mixed. Do not call me Detective Keaton. To you, I… am… Chace.”
“Oh…” she breathed then kept breathing when she finished, “kay.”
“Okay what?” he prompted.