The urge was to go down two steps into the cabin and sweep the table clear so he could have her right there and then. She’d given all the signals that she’d be right there, turning the front room into their own haven of passion if he made the move to do so. But there was time. For the first time in a long time, Dallas felt like savoring every second. The urgency of his life had always been nipping at his heels, keeping him plowing forward at a breakneck pace. This moment was different. He wanted every second to stretch into an hour.

He’d have Harlan tonight, but for now he’d sent her to indulge in every detail he’d had laid out for her. It hadn’t been easy calling the owner of the house with the list of awkward requests. Normally when he rented the place all he asked for was the key to be left in the mailbox. This time it was imported bath salts, luxurious towels, wine, and an assortment of food to last them a couple of days.

The awkwardness of the phone call was outweighed by the primal moan that escaped the bathroom as Harlan sank into the deep tub he’d filled for her. The fire was roaring, and all his work was done.

“May I have that wine you promised?” Harlan purred through the open bathroom door.

“How about some berries too?” Dallas asked, pouring two glasses and pulling some fruit out for them.

“Yes,” she called back in a low melodic tone of someone completely relaxed. “Bring me anything you think I’d like.”

“Are your bubbles strategically placed for modesty?” he teased as he rounded the corner and stepped into the large white-tiled bathroom.

“Of course,” she laughed, “I’m a lady after all.”

As he closed in on the tub, two glasses and a tray of fruit in hand, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Harlan had done just the opposite of his suggestion, sweeping the few bubbles far off to the side, exposing all of her. There was no bashfulness in her pose, and that was the most enticing part of seeing her creamy skin below the tiny ripples in the water.

“You’re enough to drive a man to drink,” he teased, taking a big swig of his wine before realizing what a stupid thing he’d just said.

“Oh man,” she groaned, her face crumpling into half laugh and half disgust. “You didn’t just say that did you? Because I have already driven one man straight to alcoholism.”

“I was kidding. I wasn’t even thinking about that . . . I just meant that you, lying there . . .” He was stammering, fumbling for words that would make this better.

“I know, it’s just fun to see you squirm like that,” she teased, reaching out a hand for her wine glass. “I know exactly what I’m doing to you. I’m enjoying it immensely.”

“Torture,” he said, his eyes raking over her body. “I’m going to go make a quick phone call. You soak and think of more ways to drive me crazy. Enjoy it while you can, because when you get out of there . . .” He let his words trail off as he left the bathroom and closed the door.

On the ride up he’d missed a call from Tim. Dallas made it a point that when he got a call from the prison he picked it up, no matter what. But with Harlan in the car, the two of them chatting so comfortably with each other and enjoying the ease of it all, he hadn’t wanted to dampen the mood. The guilt had begun to set in now and going the rest of the night without checking in with Tim would keep him distracted.

The call went through a switchboard operator who gave Dallas an ear full about following the correct process. Once he was thoroughly scolded she agreed reluctantly to have Tim brought in to take the call.

“Hey bro,” Tim said, sounding his usual upbeat self. “How are you doing?”

“Sorry I missed you earlier. I had some spotty service on my way up to the safe house. It took an act of Congress to get them to connect us now.”

“You’re up there again? Is everything all right? I feel like you only go up there when you’re feeling shitty.”

“Not this time,” Dallas said through a smile, imaging what was waiting for him in the other room. “I’m good.”

“Oh hell, you aren’t alone. I bet it’s the girl you brought to court. Melissa said you were looking at her like a puppy with a new toy. I love it. Good for you, man. You’ve been miserable for so long, dealing with all my stuff. You need to move on.”

“Move on?” Dallas asked, feeling slighted by the judgment. “I’m not moving on until you’re out of there. You can count on that. I don’t want you doubting my commitment to you. We’re actually getting some good leads together. Harlan and I are spending the next few days up here looking at some new ways we can get you a new trial.”

“Stop,” Tim demanded, sounding completely defeated. “You are in a cabin with a beautiful woman who is making you smile. I can hear it over the phone. Don’t waste the time you have with her dealing with this. Melissa is a good lawyer. Stop chasing this; go live your life. One of us should.”

“You don’t mean that,” Dallas cut back, now annoyed. “I know you’re disappointed the last hearing didn’t go your way, but I’m telling you, we can find something. Harlan is brilliant. She’s helping me look at things with fresh eyes.”

“It’s been over a year,” Tim shouted, something he never did. “You’ve lost your career over this. A job you loved, something you were born for. Our friends gave up on me, and you cut them out of your life. I’m the one behind bars but somehow you’re the one locked up. I’m innocent. I’ll prove it someday. Melissa is going to work every angle, but I can’t survive in here if I know you’re out there throwing away every chance of happiness. This girl, she’s saying she’ll help you now, but she’s not going to be as committed to this as you. At some point if I’m still in here, she’s going to want a normal guy who thinks about normal things. Not some guy chasing down leads and crossing the line. You’re going to get yourself arrested or killed if you go knocking on the door of everyone in the area capable of murder.”

“I don’t even know what you’re asking me,” Dallas said, dumbfounded. “You want me to give up? Stop calling you? Stop trying to find out who actually committed the murder?”

“Stop letting it be the only thing you do,” Tim implored in a quiet voice. “I didn’t murder Angus. I don’t know who did, but I’m not the saint you make me out to be. Getting me out of here isn’t going to magically get you your life back. You’re never going to be a cop again. When I’m out of here, where are you going to be?”

The operator’s voice cut in and interrupted the call, letting them know the line would drop in sixty seconds.

“Start right now,” Tim pleaded. “If you have a shot at being happy for the next couple of days, you’ll put the rest of this out of your mind.”

“You’re making me sound pathetic. It’s not like I’ve been alone for ten years or something. Gabriella and I broke up six months ago, and don’t act like that was your fault. We were having problems long before you were arrested.”

The warning of thirty seconds remaining interrupted. “All I know is before all this you were in a relationship, employed in a job you loved, and surrounded by friends. Start right now, Dallas. Right this minute.”

Dallas opened his mouth to protest again but the line cut out. Their time was up. Standing there with his mouth agape and his hand squeezing the phone far too tight, Dallas tried to process what Tim meant. This was not the first time Tim had tried to get him to slow down. He’d had this kind of talk with him before but never this blunt, never this assertive.

“Any more of that wine?” Harlan’s voice called coolly through the bathroom door. “It’s getting lonely in here.”

Dallas looked down at his blank phone screen and then around the room. Maybe Tim was right. He certainly had lost some of the most important things on this journey. But he’d made a vow to free Tim. He promised no matter what it took, and he was certainly living up to that, sacrificing anything to keep trying.

Drawing in a deep breath he wondered what a couple days could hurt. Maybe giving in fully to the time with Harlan, to what every second of indulgence with her could provide, might clear his mind. Maybe it would transcend to something and his mind would break open and the answers would just come. Or maybe it would just feel good. He’d forgotten what feeling good could do for him.

“I better open the second bottle at this rate,” Dallas called, scooping up the opener and the fresh bottle. “You better drink more than just wine though. You’re going to want to hydrate, it’ll be a long couple of days. And you’re going to sweat.”