Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“I saw a picture of Madden at Brittanie’s. She had a missing tooth.”
Her lips curved. “That would be two years ago.”
“She’s cute.”
“She’s the most beautiful being ever created.”
For the first time in a very long time, Rus let loose a full smile.
Her eyes widened again when she saw it, though this time she didn’t get a quick lock on it, or the different kind of pink that hit her cheeks.
Terrific.
He wasn’t reading it wrong.
She was into him too.
It was him who should lock it down.
Of course, he didn’t.
Instead, he teased, “Shame she’s got a mother who’s not proud of her.”
“She has a tough life.”
He didn’t believe that for a second.
“I have to push back, seeing as my daughter is the most beautiful being ever created,” he told her.
“Isn’t it a miracle?” she asked quietly. “How so many of them are roaming this earth.”
It was.
They were both very lucky.
“How old is yours?” he asked.
“Nine. Yours?”
“Eighteen. My boy is twenty.”
“You’re not wearing a ring,” she noted.
Definitely into him.
“Divorced. You aren’t either.”
And he wasn’t hiding he was into her too.
“Madden’s father had definite ideas about which gender in a relationship should make the most money. Seeing as what he thought should be the way wasn’t the way between us, he’s down in Oregon with his new partner. He sees Madden two weekends a month, six weeks in the summer and alternating holidays.”
“Rough,” he muttered.
“Not for me, and not for Madden either,” she stated firmly. “She doesn’t need to be around a man who will inhibit in any way, either openly or subconsciously, who she might wish to become. She loves her visits with her dad. Since he doesn’t have a lot of time with her, he goes out of his way to make them special. She comes back feeling important and adored. Which is what she should feel. Not limited and burdened by expectations.”
“My ex made more than me when we were married, and she still does,” he shared.
The cat’s-got-her-cream look that hit her face, he felt in his cock.
Fabulous.
What he asked next took them both out of that zone. He did it for that, and he did it because he was worried.
Therefore, he went gently.
“How’d she take the news?”
Her lips turned down, she took in a quiet breath, and she answered, “Not great.”
He sensed that was an understatement.
It was her turn to change the subject.
He knew it was coming when she leaned into both of her forearms on her desk and said, “You’re good at this.”
“Pardon?”
“Your job. It’s frustrating you that you aren’t further with this case.”
“It’s early.”
“You’re still frustrated.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re good.”
“I’ve worked with the Criminal Investigative Unit for fifteen years, and in that time, I’ve had some wins.”
“I talked to Bohannan about you this morning. He knows people. He asked. You’ve had more than ‘some wins.’”
She was right.
Rus shrugged.
“Why’s the FBI involved in a small-town murder?”
Shit. Fuck.
Ambush.
“Lucinda,” he warned.
“It would have been nice if Brittanie had someone who thought she was the most beautiful thing ever created.”
“You don’t need to guilt me into working hard for her,” he bit out. “I’ve got that covered.”
A small sliver of regret, followed by another of alarm, flashed though her eyes before she said, “You’re right. That was uncalled for. Forget I said it. Instead, tell me what I can do to help.”
“Secretarial services, meeting rooms and a flashy suite work great.”
“Agent Lazarus.”
Fuck him.
“Rus,” he corrected.
One side of her mouth depressed in surprise.
That happened around his name often, though sometimes it was his full name, which he was never surprised people found it interesting and sometimes even thought it was fake.
Most of the time, though, it was about people thinking they should call him Zach.
“Rus,” she said.
Yeah.
As he expected.
His name sounded really fucking good in her mouth.
And yeah.
He should lock this down.
“It’s the least I can do,” she said.
“I’m going to be in that room to sleep and pore over reports and pictures that hopefully will tell me something. I don’t need a suite with a view, a bar and a living room.”
“You need quiet when you need it. You need rest when you can have it. When that time of day comes, you need somewhere you look forward to being so you can relax. And I need to feel like I’m doing something for Brittanie.”
It was the last part that had him giving in.
“You play dirty,” he muttered.
She rested back, murmuring in return, “You’ve no idea.”
The door opened and Moran walked in, talking.
“Right, most of the men have solid alibis, but they won’t be voting for me in the next election because two are married, one is separated but wants a reconciliation, and none of them were fans of my deputies showing at their places of work to ask about their connection with a dead woman who was a burlesque dancer.”
“Comes with the territory, buddy,” Rus replied sympathetically as Moran sat down.