The traffic lights on the approach to Halo Peak township signaled red. Adam stopped the car, and reached over to gently touch Marlo’s shoulder to awaken her. She’d been asleep for most of the return trip, and he watched her blink and rub her eyes.

“Hey, sleepy.”

Marlo stretched and pushed the hair back from her face. “We’re here already! How long have I been asleep?”

“Most of the way. You must’ve been exhausted.”

“You should’ve woken me. What a lousy car companion I turned out to be.”

“Make up for it by having dinner with me. Let’s grab some takeout and a bottle of wine and go down to the harbor entrance.”

She looked to the backseat to check on Fala. “I’d love to, but Fala needs her dinner soon. I should get her home…”

He held back a sigh. No change there; Marlo still came second to the dogs. “We can stop at the market and get her some meat or a bone to see her through, and you can top her off with whatever she normally has when you get home.”

He didn’t have to look. He could sense her watching, feel that surge across the little space between them right there in the car. It meant he had to concentrate on keeping the car moving on the right side of the road because all he wanted to do was pull over, and pull her up against him, and—

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

He sure as hell didn’t mind. He’d welcome every creature from Dog Haven, and the staff, if that meant having a few more hours with her.

On the way to pick up dinner, Adam stopped by his apartment to grab a rug and pillows. When leaving that morning, he’d thought of putting them in the car in the hope that she’d agree to stay on for a bit, but he hadn’t wanted to jinx his plans. So much had gone wrong that he would grasp at anything to make it go right, including a little irrational behavior. That meant not tempting fate, not bowing to Murphy’s Law, and not flipping the bird at superstition.

They lay side-by-side, resting back on their forearms. They’d fed the remains of their dinner to the seabirds, giving the gulls names and occupations as the birds squabbled for the food. Fala had made good work of a brisket bone and was now sprawled asleep at the bottom of the rug, chasing squirrels on Planet Dog if her twitching feet were any indication. Marlo seemed transfixed by the slow and very deep fall and rise of the dog’s chest.

The sun was starting to set, and the air had become damp and more briny, so that if he breathed deep through his mouth, he could taste the salt. A seabird called and was answered, and Adam watched Marlo give a small shiver. He could pass her his jacket or warm her himself.

Warm her? Who was he kidding? He wanted to haul her into him, completely envelop her, keep her safe. Keep her forever.

Not yours.

She doesn’t want you to touch her.

You’re leaving.

She’s chilly. He reached for his jacket. “Here, you’re getting cold.” He placed it around her shoulders.

“You’ll get cold, too.” She shuffled closer to him. “We can share it.”

He adjusted it around them, and their body heat mingled and hung, trapped within the coat like a warm fog.

“We should talk, shouldn’t we?” Her question was gentle and hesitant.

“Yeah, we should.” This was one chance, and the havoc that thought created rattled through him. There may be another chance at another time, but she’d just gifted him a moment.

“I don’t really know where to start, Adam. I’m hopeless at this sort of thing, but I’d like to start with Justice, because when it comes to talking about you and me, well, I’m sure I’ll mess that up. I want you to know that despite how it may appear, I don’t blame you for Justice going missing. That would be ridiculous.” She picked a leaf from the blanket and folded it in half, folded it again, and pressed the edges tight.

She studied the tiny parcel in her hand. “I was so horrible to you, and I’m truly sorry about that. When I found out about Justice—when I thought they’d put him down—it hurt so much. I’d survived Barrett, and I felt bulletproof. Suddenly I was sideswiped by this. I was still trying to make sense of what had happened when you walked into the kitchen, and right at that moment, I wanted you to hurt, too. Not to punish you. Not for any sort of revenge, but to try to make you understand how I was feeling.”

You’d taken a little piece of my heart before it had become so hurt. That piece needed to suffer, too. It was the only chance I had of getting it back.

“Marlo, seeing your distress is painful for me. I know about loss, about losing your heart. But the most important thing I know now—and it’s because you showed me—is that the heart has the capacity to repair and grow and do it all again. You will love again. Other dogs, other people, and just as sure as that, you’ll hurt again, too. It’s called living. Let yourself keep doing it.”

He was pushing her away. Fear ran a red light, tearing right through her, and she had to fight an urge to get up and pace.

As if sensing this he took her hand, tethering her.

She looked to their clasped hands, her voice shaky. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“I was always leaving, Marlo.” She heard the warning in the gentle, deep tone of his voice.

“But you’re leaving soon?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

He hesitated. “Thursday.”

“Jesus,” it was scarcely a word, more an exhalation.

In the distance, a seabird cried, and she stayed on that sound, waiting for its mate to reply. She waited, and there was silence. She worked on the lump in her throat, wondering how big it would get and if it would render her mute and finally choke her. His hand gripped so hard that she almost cried on the outside, too.

“I can’t do this, Adam. Will you take me home?”

“Not yet.” He shook his head and kept his grip firm when she tried to shift. He asked her to look at him, but she didn’t. So he reached for her chin and tilted her face up, and the tears so carefully balanced in her eyes tipped over and spilled down her cheeks.

“Damn.” She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “Please, Adam, I want to go.”

“No. No running, Marlo. Stay here. We’ll keep at this. There’s stuff we have to talk about and dissect and get comfortable with so that this becomes something we can live with.” He waited a moment, then took a little piece of her hair and tugged it gently. Hey.”

She faced him, faced the eyes that seemed fathomless and the mouth that set her alight when it smiled, when it kissed her, and as she studied him that lump in her throat began to dissolve. “Hey, yourself,” she whispered.

“I’m not going to leave you with anything that will haunt you, haunt both of us, so stay put and keep talking.” He put his mouth close to her ear. “I need this, too,” he said.

She started to grab some self-control. “I’m okay now.” Maybe a little spoken affirmation would make that the truth.

“Liar.” Adam smiled. “I know what your ‘okay’ means.”

“What?”

“It means you’ve found yourself a strongbox with a big lock so that you can shut all this away, because you’re afraid of hurting if you deal with it.”

“Oh, now you’re flattering yourself,” she teased, because that made it a whole lot easier. Marlo leaned into him, and he shifted her a bit so she could use his chest as a pillow. He pulled his jacket up tight around her, and that little bit of caring was so good. Don’t get used to this. It’s temporary.

“I want you to know that I wasn’t angry with you when you asked me to leave. Sure, in the moment it hurt, because I wanted to help you. My instinct was to ease your pain. But I completely understood the reason why you reacted like that toward me. After Emma died, I was pretty evil to a lot of people. Not acquaintances, just the people I really loved. They were the only ones who I felt safe enough to be a jerk around. I knew they’d continue to love me—but like me? Possibly not.”

She lifted her head. “Are you saying I’m hard to like?” Or love?

His hand wrapped around her head as he brought it back down to his chest, gently brushing his lips across the top. “No, I’m saying I’m honored that you felt safe enough with me to behave like that.”

The combination of his touch and words were like the promise of absolution. She still had so much to learn. “Confession.”

“I’m listening.”

His arm was across her waist, and she covered it with her own. “Right now I feel like acting like a jerk. I want to tell you to go and stay out of my life, from this very minute, because the next two days are going to be agony, waiting for you to leave.”

“I’d ignore you.”

“Ah, I get it. This is one of those moments you told me about. One of those times when you think you know what’s best for me. One of those times when your ego goes all man-crazy, and you want to take control. One day I’m going to prove you wrong.” Except she wouldn’t, because there was no ‘one day’ in our future.

“I hope so.”

I hope so, too. “So remind me again why you’re leaving.” She tried to keep her voice light, but it had a burr that caught in the back of her throat, so that it came out unpolished.

“Ah, hell.” He tipped his head back. “I took this contract because it’s an issue I care deeply for. But my time away was also to be an interlude that would help me make some decisions about my future. Would I go back to being a cop, return to farming, or venture off to do something new? My visa is about to expire, so I have to leave the U.S. Plus, I have to get home because there are people waiting for me to make that decision.” He tucked her hair back behind her ear. “I never counted on you coming along and meddling with the equation.”

“Would you ever leave New Zealand? Live somewhere else?”

“Marlo…”

His chest rose beneath her head, and he held that breath; in that hesitation, she found his answer, just as she heard his answer in the words he didn’t say.

Why did she even ask?

“Would you leave the dogs?”

Fair enough. “I can’t leave the dogs. They need me.”

“Uh-huh. And are you going to start letting people into your life, a bit further than a peek? There are people out there who need you, too. And as much as I’m sure you’ll hate to admit it, you need people.”

“I know, you’re right. I need balance, not only the dogs. I understand that now. When I asked you to leave, I thought I’d feel some relief. I thought it’d be easy to slip back to my old way of just having the dogs to consider again instead of the distraction of dealing with, well, relationships…you. But I didn’t feel that. Your absence left a nasty hole in my being that kept catching on things, growing with each gust of anxiety, and it made everything spill out of me until I felt empty. I want the whole package now.” You, Adam. You’re the package.

She was easy to maneuver, this giant little five-five whirlwind tiger. Ignoring her protests, he effortlessly lifted her over him and pulled up the sides of the blanket so that they were cocooned. He could feel all those inches of body that he’d met before and loved how she nestled into him like a perfect fit in part of life’s jigsaw—in a manner that hinted of more pieces waiting to be discovered.

By another man. Shit.

No. She’s mine.

No, she’s not.

She wriggled a little, placed her hands on his shoulders and raised herself. “Any regrets?” Her amber eyes never left his.

No. Yes. He shook his head. “Gratitude, not regrets. You’ve allowed me to put Emma into another space and take a big step forward into my life without her. I believe now that I can move on and live without denigrating her memory. She would have liked you. She admired people who were loyal and stood up for their beliefs. How about you?”

“I have no regrets, either. You’ve chased away demons from my real life and from my psyche.” She bent and covered his lips with a quick and soft kiss. “You’re my dragon-slayer. How awesome is that?”

“You can keep the demons out by filling your life with good people, letting yourself rely on them a little by accepting help, Marlo!” He pinched her butt for emphasis and grinned as she jumped and settled a little deeper across him.

“The good people leave,” she whispered.

Shit. Regret coming thick and fast now. “To make room for others.”

She knocked her forehead against his shoulder. “That’s bullshit.”

“Total bullshit,” Adam agreed. No matter what, his leaving was going to hurt like a new hell. From the moment he’d met her, he had seen her vulnerability and was sucked into her need. He hadn’t been able to rein in that drive to make it all better for her. He’d scarcely even tried. Helping people when he was a cop was one thing. The uniform gave him a nice barrier between action and emotion. If a situation started getting too messy, a cop could always get some assistance from the team on the next shift. Without the uniform, without the rules, his heart had sneaked through to help out instead.

Bad heart.

No help at all.

Lesson learned.

They were heading in deep now and they needed to step back because this was about to break apart on Thursday. “So, tell me how you feel about Hanson and Barrett these days?”

Oh, yeah, he could still be a bastard if the situation called for it.