Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(23)

“We’ll find him,” Sean said, reading Brooke’s mind. How did he always seem to do that? She looked into his eyes and felt that warm pull.

Sean leaned close to her. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you always like this?”

“How do you mean?”

“So involved in your cases. Revisiting the crime scene, combing the neighborhood for witnesses. You’re going way above and beyond here.”

“Do you ever go above and beyond?”

“Yeah, and sometimes it lands me in trouble.”

“Well, you get it, then. It’s not all lab work. A lot of what I do happens outside the laboratory. Thoroughly exploring the crime scene is critical to the job because evidence is transitory. It can disappear before you even know it’s there.”

“This can’t be your only case, though. I’m guessing you have a few other open files?”

“More than a few. We’re always backlogged.”

He watched her expectantly as he sipped his beer.

She looked away, skimming her gaze over the people around her. A lot of them were her age or younger, out living it up on a Friday night. Brooke couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone anywhere with a man for the express purpose of having fun.

Two years with Matt had changed her. She was wary now, skeptical of people’s motives. And worse, reluctant to trust her instincts when it came to men.

That pissed her off because she’d had so much confidence before. She’d felt so in charge of her life.

Sean was watching her steadily. Those eyes of his seemed to look straight into her soul.

“It’s the kid thing,” she said, getting back to the matter at hand. “I hate when children get caught up in the twisted stuff adults do to each other.”

“You really believe he’s involved.”

“Yes, I really do.”

“Another round?”

The bartender was back, and Brooke was surprised to see they’d drained their beers. And also surprised that her hand was still resting on top of Sean’s.

Brooke reached for her purse. “I should get home.”

“This is on me.”

Sean took out his wallet, but she ignored him and left money on the bar to cover her drink and the tip. She didn’t want him to think this was a date.

The place was filling up, and they had to squeeze their way through the crowd to get to the door. When they were out in the cold, damp air, Brooke took a deep breath. What little relaxation she’d achieved at her yoga class was long gone.

Without a word, Sean started walking her toward her Prius. No oversize black pickup pinning her in tonight, thank God. She cast a look around the parking lot.

“What kind of yoga do you do?”

She glanced at him. “Bikram.”

He winced. “Too hot.”

“You’ve tried it?”

“Running’s much better for working up a sweat. Yoga’s good for stress, though.” He glanced at her. “Like you said, gotta feed your soul.”

She would never have guessed he practiced yoga. It didn’t fit her image of a tough-guy cop. Given his build, she’d always pictured him pumping iron in a gym.

“So, tomorrow’s Saturday. Prime time for doughnuts,” she said as they reached her car.

“We’ll have someone check out the shop. Maybe he’ll show.”

“I can try to swing by there, too. Before I head to the lab.”

“Brooke.”

“What?”

He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her.

For an instant, pure shock. Then she registered the warmth of his fingers against her cheek, the press of his lips. His mouth moved against hers, and she opened for him—just like that, no hesitation. The most natural thing ever.

The touch of his tongue sent a surge of heat through her. Sean was kissing her. And all she could think was how right it felt, how perfect, and she let herself sink into him.

She liked the way he kissed her, liked the feel of his hand against her face as he tilted her head for a better angle. It went on and on until she was clinging to him, gripping his shirt in her fingers.

He eased back, and she blinked up at him, dazed.

“Wow,” he said in a husky voice.

“Wow.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

She leaned back. “You have not.”

“Okay, months.”

She stared up at him. The corner of his mouth curved in that sly smile, and she reached up and pulled his head down for another kiss.

He kissed her back, and the sweep of his tongue brought another rush of heat. He glided his hands down to cup her hips and eased her back against the car, lining their bodies up, and she burrowed her hands inside the warmth of his jacket. He felt so good, everything about him. He was strong and solid and warm. She slid her hands around his waist and up his back to pull him even closer, and she was pressed between the cold hardness of her car and the hot hardness of Sean’s body.

“Brooke.”

She kissed him, desperate not to talk right now. She only wanted to keep the kiss going. She wanted to keep tasting him and feeling the rasp of his stubble against her skin. She pressed her breasts into him, craving his heat, wanting more of him as her entire body started to throb. When she rocked her hips against him, he made a low groan deep in his chest.