“Educated guess. She pissed you off, huh?”
“She wasn’t taking me seriously. Putting her in there, though, is about testing a theory. One that I would prefer to discuss after you’ve gotten a good night’s sleep. But I really do have a few more things I need to do.”
He sighs. “All right. I’ll rest my eyes while you finish up. Just sit with me for a minute first.”
He leads me to the fireplace bearskin rug. Rockton is full of hide rugs and blankets. It adds a nice “wilderness lodge” touch, but it really is about conservation—using as much as possible of any animal we need to kill.
We sit on the rug, Storm taking a spot beside it. Then Dalton stretches out and tugs me to lie beside him. I prop up on my elbow. He kisses me—a long, slow kiss that washes over me like a warm bath, and I relax into it, feeling the pull of my exhaustion. When he lowers his head to the rug, his eyelids are flagging. He keeps me there, though, his hand on my hip.
“So,” he says. “How was your day?”
I laugh at that and shake my head. “Long. It felt like running in place while juggling hand grenades, so the best I can say is that I didn’t drop any.”
“That’s the main thing.”
“Progress would be nice.”
He shrugs. “Move too fast, and you’ll drop a grenade. Then you won’t need to worry about making progress.”
“True. Slow and steady just isn’t my style.”
“I know. But I gotta say, it made a difference, knowing I didn’t need to worry about what shit was happening back here. Knowing you’d be on top of it.”
I hesitate and then say, “So I shouldn’t ask to go with you tomorrow.”
One nearly shut eyelid opens. “Is that what you want?”
“For a while, if I could. Will can handle the grenades. None are in imminent danger of exploding. I know you’re fine out there but…”
“You worry about me.”
“Sorry.”
“Hey, if you get a little concerned for my safety, then I won’t feel so bad when I completely overreact about yours.”
I smile. “True. So may I join you?”
“You may. You can bring the coffee. Got a feeling we’re going to need…”
He trails off, eyes closed, and I think he’s joking, proving the point about needing coffee tomorrow. But his next breath comes deep as his face goes slack.
“Not tired at all, were you?” I say with a smile.
I lean down and press my lips against his and then cuddle in beside him, closing my eyes, just for a second … and the world darkens.
* * *
I wake once in the night, rousing just enough to feel soft blankets, where someone has draped them over us. The station smells of wood fire, someone setting it to ward off the night chill. Storm is pressed up against my legs, a furry hot-water bottle. Dalton sleeps so soundly he’s snoring, and I can’t summon the energy or the will to wake him and go home. I’m back asleep in moments.
I wake again to the smell of coffee, a mug wafted under my nose, Dalton crouching beside me. I reach out, and he starts to hand it to me, and then kisses me instead. When we part, I smile and say, “Good morning.”
“Now just give you your damn coffee?”
My smile grows. “I’d never say that.” I take the steaming mug, and he passes over the box of cookies from yesterday. “Saved them for you.”
“I’m spoiled.”
“It’s my detective-retention program. In return for sticking with a shitty, shitty job, you get fresh coffee and chocolate chip cookies delivered to your bedside. Also, sex. The last one’s a sacrifice, but I really need a good detective.”