Meet Cute (Love, Camera, Action #5) - Elise Faber Page 0,43

. . doesn’t . . . ex . . .”

And with that, she fell asleep in my arms. I carried her down the hall, tucked her under the blankets, and returned to do the dishes. Then when I was done, I crammed myself back into that chair at the bedside and slipped into oblivion, studying the peaceful expression on her face.

It was the best night of my life.

Hands down.

Chapter Eighteen

Tammy

I woke up with sunlight blinding me through my closed eyes for the second time in as many days.

The man needed to invest in blackout shades.

With my ever-changing shifts at the sheriff’s office, they’d become an absolute lifesaver. I could sleep in, never worrying about the position of the sun in the sky, or the giant, gas bastard’s rays streaming into my eyelids.

Especially this California sunshine.

It never seemed to quit.

I stretched, my arm aching, but in a way that was much more manageable than the previous day. No heavy-duty painkillers would be needed today, that was for sure, but I might hit up Talbot for some ibuprofen.

Squinting against the sun, I slowly pushed up . . .

And saw Talbot, himself, sleeping in the chair next to the bed, his neck at an angle that had to be uncomfortable, his lips parted slightly, his breathing slow and steady. He hadn’t shaved since before the party, and his jaw was filled with stubble, a rough patch I’d felt beneath my fingertips several times the previous day. Now it was even longer, approaching more beard than not, and the man could definitely pull off a beard.

Something buzzed, and my gaze was drawn to the nightstand, where I was surprised to see my cell was plugged in.

Quietly picking it up and trying desperately to not think how far down the rabbit hole of Talbot I’d gone the previous day—straight past keeping distance and right into both feet in the fire—I unplugged my cell and looked at the screen.

Yesterday might have been stupid, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it, not when the man was . . . well, a man I’d always dreamed of.

He’d been thoughtful and kind and . . . I was going to soak that up.

I was too addicted to the way he made me feel to do anything besides that. Who knew the next time I’d be shacked up with a movie star? I might as well live it up.

Now, however, my cell buzzed again.

I glanced down to see the sheriff himself had texted me.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

Rob was the one who’d hired me, and as a former detective and newly elected sheriff, I didn’t want to piss him off. Not only was he my boss, but he was also my mentor, and he’d taken me under his wing when I’d expressed interest in going for detective.

Not that there was any space on the payroll or in the department for hiring another full-time position, but Rob had still helped me with training and given me opportunities to learn.

He was another one of the good guys.

Too bad he was married.

Trepidation in my veins, my fingertips trembling, I unlocked my screen and read the message.

Report in.

Well, that didn’t give much for me to go on, did it?

I had no idea if he was pissed about my newfound media fame—and based on the news stories Mags had shown me the previous day, I would be delusional to think he hadn’t heard what happened—or if he was worried for my safety.

I hoped for the second one.

But . . . I worried it might be the first.

Usually, police departments preferred their officers to keep low social profiles.

And being everywhere online, in major newspapers, and on TV didn’t bode well for my future as a sheriff’s officer.

Kind of hard to prevent crime with a gaggle of cameramen at my back.

Or maybe . . . maybe it was the best way.

No one would dare step a toe out of line if it were going to get caught on camera, right? Snorting to myself, I slid quietly from the bed and padded my way across the bedroom, almost desperate for another shower, for another chance to use those yummy-smelling products . . . provide myself with another escape from this conversation.

But I wasn’t a coward.

Which was why I slipped through the French door leading out onto that small patio beyond the glass in the bedroom, full of lush greenery. A breeze hit my skin the moment I did, lazy swirls of air catching my hair, drifting along my nape,