Ben looked so peaceful when he slept. I stood beside him, a cup of French vanilla coffee in my hand with two sugars and cream, and watched as he dreamt. That used to be one of my favorite things to do whenever we managed to lie to our parents well enough that we could sneak in a sleepover together—I’d always wake up before him so I could watch him at his calmest. When awake, he was like a hurricane tearing through the Atlantic. Asleep, he had a quiet calmness about him that pulled me in, and didn’t let go. Of course, he did that to me awake, too, but whatever.

We wouldn’t talk about that.

He’d taken his shirt off sometime through the night, and the blanket was low enough to show that he’d developed quite the six pack over the years. He was rock hard, toned, and had a sparse spattering of blonde chest hair over his pecs, that taped off into a thin line that led all the way down his abs and under the blanket to his—

He stirred, his eyes lifting slightly.

Heart pounding, I quickly held the coffee out, trying my best to not appear as if I’d been staring at him like a starved woman. “Good morning! Coffee?” I asked, sounding a little too perky.

Blinking, he sat up and dragged his hands down his face. By the time he lowered them, he looked fully alert and awake. Just like that. It usually took me a cup and a half of coffee to do that. “Yeah, sure, thanks.” He took it and set it down on the table. “What time is it?”

“Seven.”

Nodding, he stood. His abs flexed, and despite my best resolve, my gaze dipped low. God, were there eight of them? “Mind if I use the bathroom?”

“Of course not.” I gestured down the hall, forcing my eyes back to his face. “I put a toothbrush in there for you. I had a spare.”

He grinned, rubbing his abs. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” I mumbled.

He walked away, and much to my chagrin, the back view was just as nice as the front. Muttering under my breath, I quickly folded the blankets he’d used the night before, piling them on the side table nicely and rearranging the pillows. It had been nice of him to spend the night with me, but in the light of the new day, I’d found myself feeling a little stronger. Since I couldn’t sleep last night, I’d used the time spent in my bed wisely. I came up with a game plan. First step? Install a security system. Second? Change my phone number. Third? Contact the local magistrate to give him a heads up. Fourth? Contact the judge in North Carolina, too, to let him know Vinnie was breaking his PFA rules. Fifth? Watch my back incessantly.

Go to work. Come home. Lock the doors.

No more blind dates. No more going out.

Sure, I might get lonely, but until he was caught and the situation was taken care of, it was how it had to be. Being lonely was better than being dead, right? After all, who would take care of Mom if he got his hands on me?

Ben came back out, still shirtless, stretching. “Thanks for that.”

“Thank you for staying.” I crossed my arms and watched as he shrugged into his dress shirt, not buttoning it. “I don’t normally need reassurance, but last night…” I swallowed. Was he ever going to button his damn shirt? “…I needed it.”

“Anytime.” He grabbed his coffee and came over to me. “I can stay as long as you’d like. Your couch is surprisingly comfortable.”

“That won’t be necessary.” I lifted my chin. “I’m good.”

“You’re good.” He frowned. “That can only mean one thing. You have a plan?”

He knew me so well. “I have a plan.”

“Good. But my offer still stands.” He reached out and caught my chin, stepping closer. “And you and me are gonna get this town to straighten their shit out. What happened between us was years ago, and everyone needs to get the fuck over it. We did, long ago.”

I swallowed. “Yeah. Totally.”

“I should have said something earlier, but if I see anyone giving you the cold shoulder, I’ll give them shit.” He ran his thumb over the curve of my jaw. “I’ve got your back, partner.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I had my own back, and didn’t need his help, since it came way too late, but I’d realized last night that he was right. I had to stop trying to do everything alone. I was only one person. “And I’ve got yours.”

Our eyes locked, and something invisible charged between us, sparking to life. My tongue swept over my dry lips, and I shifted closer without even realizing it. His grip on me shifted, as he moved his head slightly, dipping down to my level, but then he froze with his mouth mere inches away from mine.

Frustration hit me hard.

If I rose on my tiptoes...

“Shit,” he growled.

“Sorry,” I muttered, stepping back, my cheeks red.

That’s twice I almost kissed him, and twice that he’d come to his senses before me, and rejected me. I needed to pull myself together. Despite our past together, he was my partner.

And partners didn’t kiss.

He didn’t let go of me, so I wasn’t able to retreat far. “If you weren’t my partner, nothing—and I mean nothing—would stop me from kissing you, right here, right now. I’d back you up against that wall, pick you up, wrap your legs around my waist, and find out if you’re still the best kisser I ever had.” He did exactly that. Backed me against the wall next to the entrance of the hallway. Too bad he didn’t follow through with the rest of that mental image he’d given me. “I’d kiss you, run my hands over every delicious curve of your body that teases me every damn day, and by the time I finished with you, you’d never want me to leave. I’d make sure of it.”

My stomach clenched tight. My legs trembled. My heart raced. And, God, I couldn’t help it. I wanted him to do all those things, and more. “Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so. Because, damn, Sarah. These dresses you wear…” He slid his hand over my ribs, down my hip, and trailed off on my upper thigh. “…they fucking kill me.”

I shivered, gripping his open shirt.

“But the thing is, I figure my dad put us together for a reason, right?” He gritted his teeth and retreated, not backing off completely but not quite close enough to kiss anymore, either. “My thinking is that he’s hoping we slip up, and then he would have grounds for removing you from the force. He was pissed that he had to take you on because he wanted to hire his buddy’s son instead, so if he has a reason to get rid of you…”

I blinked. “He’d get rid of me if we kissed?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“That’s taking it a bit far.” I pursed my lips. “Wouldn’t he just, I don’t know, reassign me to a new partner?”

“I honestly don’t know. He can be pretty petty when he wants to be.” He shrugged, stepping back. “I don’t know about you, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

I cocked my head. “Would he fire you?”

“His son?” he asked hollowly. “Doubtful. But the new girl no one wanted to hire…?”

I frowned. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his jaw, still staring. “Ouch.”

As we silently weighed one another, the doorbell rang. After another moment of silence, I said, “That’ll be Grace.”

“We should probably let her in,” he said hollowly.

I finally broke eye contact with him, and as I walked toward the door, I couldn’t help but feel that whatever was going on between us was far from over. There was this pull between us, this animalistic attraction, that had never died. I was starting to think it never would, and sooner or later, this animalistic nature was going to win its battle with my self-control. Once it did?

I was going to be the one to lose.