“You’re kidding me, right?” I asked, my grip on my iPhone tight.

Dad sighed. “When do I ever kid about this type of thing, son?”

I glared at Sarah’s house, staring at the only light that was still on—the one in her living room. Grace had left an hour ago, and I was in my customary position outside the house where I could watch over her without her knowing. I’d decided to keep my distance as I watched over her, because if I told her the truth, she’d insist I leave, and I’d refuse. We’d fight about it after my refusal, of course, but I was stubborn as hell, and eventually she’d see I wasn’t going anywhere. Once she accepted that, she’d invite me to sleep on the couch. But if I slept on the couch, I’d be close to her, and if I was close to her, then I’d want to talk to her. If I talked to her, I’d want to touch her. And if I touched her, I’d want to kiss her. If I kissed her…we all knew what came next.

Yeah. Neither of us could afford that mistake.

“She should have told us.”

He sighed. “I think it’s time you press her for more information. The more we have, the better equipped we’ll be to protect her. Are you there now?”

“Yes, in my car.”

“Knock and pretend you stopped by. Tell her what we know, and politely request for the full story this time. We need to know exactly what we’re up against here, and the only way to know that is the truth. From what I can tell, they dropped the charges, and accused her of fabricating the whole story, which means she lied about him being in jail in the first place. I want to know why she lied.”

I gritted his teeth. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Find out, or I will.”

I nodded once, recognizing that tone for what it was—an order from my boss. “Yes, sir.”

We hung up, and I sighed, shoving the phone in my pocket. Without wasting time on a game plan, I got out of my car and made my way up to the door, scanning the perimeter as I went. Nothing moved, or made a sound out of the ordinary, but I felt like someone was out there, watching. I didn’t like that feeling at all. As I climbed the steps, I frowned at the trampled red rose on the porch. Had Sarah dropped it on her way inside?

Bending down, I picked it up, walked to the door, and knocked three times, sharply. Silence greeted me, then after a while I heard the lock unlatch, and she peered at me through the crack of the door. She wore a pair of duck pajamas, her hair was loose around her shoulders, and slightly damp as if she’d showered recently. Heart pounding because she looked so fucking adorable in those stupid pajamas, I held the rose out. “Hey. I—”

“What are you doing?” she said at the same time.

As her gaze fell to my hands, her eyes narrowed. She reached through the door, snatched the rose out of my grip, and tossed it into the bushes.

“What the hell—?” I started.

“Why were you holding that?” she snapped, interrupting me.

“I found it on your porch, and picked it up.” I looked over my shoulder at the bush that now hid the rose, confused. “Why did you throw it?”

“Because I don’t want it.” She stepped aside, and gestured for me to come in, searching the shadows much like I just had. Did she sense a presence, too? “What are you doing here?”

“What’s with the flower?” I asked again as I passed her, watching as she shut the door and immediately locked it, then punched in the code for her security system. It beeped twice.

“I don’t like roses.”

I blinked. “Since when?”

“Since Vinnie used to give them to me after hitting me,” she answered without hesitation.

“Shit.” I stiffened, looking at the door. “Is it from him?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to tell myself it isn’t.” She hugged herself. “Why else would a random rose be on my porch, though?”

“You should have called me,” I said, my tone hard.

“I was busy.”

Busy. Riiiight.

Walking inside, I headed toward the couch where I’d slept the other night. Guess it would be my bed again tonight. No way in hell I’d be leaving her alone after hearing her ex may or may not have put a rose on her porch. “Is your mom asleep?”

“Yes, has been for hours.” She hugged herself harder. “Why?”

“Because we need to talk.”

“Says who?” she asked, trailing behind me.

“Me.” I hesitated. “And the Captain.”

She crossed her arms, eyeing me cautiously. “Why?”

“You didn’t tell us the whole story, Sarah.”

“I told you everything you needed to know,” she said slowly, edging closer to the wall. She leaned against it, her arms still crossed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was seconds from fleeing me and my questions. “I dated him. He seemed like a nice guy. After a while, he started hitting me. Threatened my life and my job if I told anyone. Almost killed me. I finally left him, got a PFA, and then I came home.”

I approached her cautiously. “But you left out one tiny little detail about him that was kind of important.”

She lifted her chin, her eyes flashing defiantly. “What’s that?”

“That he’s a fucking cop.” I stopped just short of touching her. “And that you turned him in, which made the department eager to be rid of you, which helped you get the job here. Oh, and you also lied, because he’s not in jail like you said.”

“There was no lie.” She pushed off the wall. “Clearly he got out.”

“No.” I backed her against it by moving closer. She wasn’t going anywhere until I had some answers. “He never got in.”

Her nostrils flared. “What?”

“He was never in jail,” I said rigidly. “You lied.”

She pushed off the wall, ducked under my arm, and started pacing furiously. “I didn’t lie. Don’t you dare accuse me of lying.”

The way she said that, her tone broken, reminded me of something my father had said. No one had believed her, and she’d been all alone after she told the truth about her partner. Clearly, in my anger, I’d struck a chord—something I didn’t intend to do. “Sarah…he was never in jail.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” she cried, her face flushed with anger. “You’re telling me the second I left, they just let him off the hook? They just let him go? They assured me if I left, if I went across the country—”

“So you actually thought he was in jail?” I interrupted.

“Of course I did.” She stooped pacing and spun on me. “Why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t know. Why would you lie about him being a cop?”

She poked me in the chest. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t mention it. His profession is irrelevant to the situation.”

“The hell it is.” I caught her arm. “He was your partner.”

“So? We didn’t have a no-fraternization rule like your father.” She tried to yank free, but I didn’t let go. “I did nothing wrong, Ben.”

“I never said you did.”

“And yet you’re looking at me like that,” she spat, trying to pull free again. “With judgey eyes. Or is it that you don’t believe me anymore? Are you like them? Are you going to accuse me of making it all up for attention?”

Anger hit me in the chest for more reasons than one. I backed her against the wall, releasing her, but not setting her free. Instead, I pinned her in with my body—which was probably a huge fucking mistake. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Are you seriously looking at me like that?”

I growled under my breath. “Like what?”

“Like I did something wrong.” She slammed her hands against my chest, leaving them there. “They all looked at me like that when I reported him to the bureau. What was I supposed to do? Keep quiet? Let him kill me, because, hey, at least I wasn’t turning in my partner, right? At least I wasn’t turning on a fellow cop like a traitor?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, staring up at me with fire in her eyes. “That’s why you’re looking at me like that, right?”

Shaking my head, I bit my tongue, trying to keep the words from coming out. If I told her why I was looking at her like that, there would be no going back.

“Then why?” she persisted, clearly not aware of how close I was to saying the worst thing I could possibly say right now, considering her body pressed against mine in all the right places, and all I wanted was to pull her into my arms, kiss her, and swear I’d never let any asshole hurt her again.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” I gritted out.

She shook me slightly, her grip on my shirt tight. “Yes, you are. Why? Tell me!”

Something inside me snapped, giving way to the need to be one hundred percent honest with her, no matter the consequences. “Because you should have been with me, damn it. Not him. You should have been mine, you should still be mine, and I never would have hurt you like that. That’s why I’m looking at you like that—because I want you to be with me. I want to keep you safe, and I wish like hell we could go back in time, and do it all over again so you never left me.”

The second I finished that sentence, I knew I’d made a huge mistake. But there was no taking them back now. I’d said them. I’d meant them. There was nothing to do about it.

Before I could even attempt to clean up the shitstorm I’d just unleashed on us both, she did the unthinkable. She rose on her tiptoes, closed the distance between us, and kissed me.

And I, selfish dumbass that I was, matched her unthinkable action with one of my own. Instead of pushing her away and ending it before things went too far, I closed my arms around her, hauled her against my chest, slammed her against the wall, and…

I kissed her back.