Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)(37)

He started to reach for another cigarette,

but

changed

his

mind.

Compelled by the craving to see Sera and reassure himself she was okay, he jogged toward the building. Before he jerked the door open, something caught his eye—or some one, rather. A block away, a man sat watching him from a parked car.

Dread settled in his gut. He started toward the car, but it pulled away from the curb. Very slowly, he reached behind his back and molded a hand around the butt of his gun. A moment later, the car passed and he got a glimpse of the driver inside. A driver who was looking right at him, expression inscrutable.

Connor.





CHAPTER TWELVE


When Bowen walked through the front door of the apartment, instead of exiting his bedroom as expected, Sera’s heartbeat skidded to a halt. She sat in the windowsill, a bowl of Cheerios in one hand, spoon in the other. Oh, God, what if he’d seen her? She braced herself for questions, brain scrambling for a believable cover story that would explain why she’d broken into his car.

He tugged on the collar of his leather bomber jacket, restless energy radiating from every inch of him. “You want to get out of here, Ladybug?”

“What?”

“Come on.” His fingers harassed his hair. “We’ve been stuck in here since last night.”

She let him take the bowl of Cheerios from her hand. “Where were you?”

“Picking up smokes.”

“Okay.” The stores were still closed, though. She’d only been back ten minutes. They couldn’t have opened that quickly. How could she have missed him leaving the apartment? “Let me get dressed.” Something was wrong. She couldn’t put a name to the look in his eyes. Anxiousness. Forced casualness.

“Where are you going?” she asked as he followed on her heels.

“With you.” He smiled, but it was strained. “Let me pick something out?”

Sera watched dumbfounded as he rummaged through the neat stack of clothes on her side table, casting a look at her over his shoulder as if to make sure she was still there. Within seconds, he returned with a green short-sleeved sweaterdress. He shoved the garment into her hands and reached for the hem of her sleep shirt, tugging it up her bare thighs.

“Bowen.” She grabbed his hands.

“Stop.” Their gazes connected, but she didn’t think he saw her. “What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?”

On a long exhale, he pressed their foreheads together. “Sometimes I feel a little trapped here, baby. In this place.

Does that ever happen to you? Have you ever felt trapped?”

She thought of her years at boarding school, being kept at a safe distance while working in Boston, even living above Rush for two weeks in that tiny room. “Yes, I have.”

His jaw tightened, gray eyes snapping.

“Now I wish I hadn’t asked.”

“I don’t feel trapped now,” she said, realizing she meant it. Not here, not with him. She stepped back and pulled the Tshirt over her head, leaving her standing before him in a bra and panties. His nostrils

flared,

muscular

chest

shuddering once. When his hands flexed at his sides, she thought he would touch her. She mentally begged him to, begged him to seek comfort in her. Instead, he dragged the dress over her head and fixed it over her curves in a series of jerky moves.

“Shoes?” He snatched up the ankle boots at the foot of the bed. She was forced to grab his shoulders for support as he placed them on her feet, one at a time. Task complete, he straightened and jerked his chin at her. “Before you insist on doing some girlie nonsense to your hair, it looks great. Let’s go.”

Bowen took her hand and pulled her from the room, barely giving her enough time to collect her purse off the counter.

Here she went again. “Not until you tell me where we’re going.”

He paused at the door, facing her slowly. “Do you trust me, Sera?”

His entire world seemed ready to crash and burn if she gave the wrong answer. That responsibility scared her.

If he placed this much importance on trust, her trust, what would happen when he inevitably found out her full identity as a police officer? What would happen when they had to go their separate ways?

Her throat started to close up, but she managed a nod. “Yes.”

Tension left his shoulders gradually.

“Try not to think about it so hard next time.”

“Try not to ask questions that require thought before I’ve had any coffee.”

He draped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close as he locked the apartment. “Fair enough. You like the beach?”

“Yes. I love it.” They walked side by side down the hall. “Is the beach kind of an escape for you, from being trapped?”

“Sometimes.” Bowen shrugged, the edginess returning. “Today it’s just a backdrop, though. You’re the escape, sweetheart.”

His words knocked the wind right out of her. The way he’d murmured it, almost as an afterthought, made it more meaningful. It proved it hadn’t been a line or a joke. Just pure, honest Bowen.

Not just the Bowen she wanted to save.

The Bowen she…wanted. Period. Oh, God, she’d fallen for him. The word “fallen” didn’t suit how she felt, though.