Chapter 4

Two days later…

"Have a nice day."Raegan smiled at the man who'd just walked past on his way out of the bank's lobby.

The smile he flashed back held a bit of a flirty edge, but she pretended not to notice and turned her focus back to the other customers still waiting in line. It wasn't like the guy was atrocious to look at. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Tall. Dark. Almost model-handsome. And though it was covered, there was clearly a tempting body hidden beneath a suit that probably cost more than her entire month's salary.

For anyone else, the guy was probably the epitome of Mr. Right. But for Raegan, all she could think was…

He's not my type.

Ironic, considering she'd never really had a type. Not one that stood out above the others, anyway. But as she kept her head on a constant swivel, there was another face filling her mind's eye.

A tall, blond man who'd been the star of her latest dreams. A man she realized was far more attractive than she'd first given him credit.

Throw in the fact that Rocky was a former SF badass who now worked for one of the most highly regarded private security firms in the country…

I can't believe he works for R.I.S.C..

A multi-million-dollar corporation, R.I.S.C. was well-known within the military community. Created and owned by former Delta Force operator, Jake McQueen, the private security firm had a reputation for helping not only civilians in need but also the United States government.

From what Raegan had picked up during her time in the service, McQueen only hired the best of the best, which meant—if Rocky was telling the truth about being on one of the firm's teams…

He and his men could definitely come in handy.

Of course, her new neighbor's potential as a possible asset wasn't the only reason Raegan felt so completely drawn to him. She wasn't sure exactly what it was about her Nordic god of a neighbor, but something had grabbed ahold of her where he was concerned.

And though she couldn't understand it, she found herself thinking…

I'm not so sure I want it to let me go.

"Excuse me? Can you please tell me where the restroom is?"

Raegan blinked, her focus turning to the elderly woman standing nearby. "Of course." She pointed to the partially shadowed corridor on her left. "It's down that hallway, third door on the left."

"Thank you, dear." The customer's wrinkled lips lifted with the woman's kind smile.

"You're very welcome."

Shuffling herself around so she was facing that direction, the unsteady woman used the cane in her right hand to assist her steps as she crossed the expansive lobby. After keeping a close eye to make sure the customer didn't fall, Raegan returned her attention to the handful of others still conducting their banking business.

A man she guessed was in his early thirties stood patiently at one of the windows, waiting as the teller there finished her task. Two spots down, a woman with thick, silver hair had just handed the teller assisting her a small stack of cash to be deposited.

Raegan's gaze slid further down the expansive counter, past three empty windows to the one closest to the bank's entrance. Standing directly across the tiled floor, she watched the young mother standing there with her little girl in tow.

Almost instantly, Raegan recognized the pretty brunette as one of the bank's regular customers. They'd never officially met, and she had no clue about the woman's name, but they came in about once a month to make a deposit, and there was almost always a smile on both their faces.

Raegan's chest grew tight as she took in the heartwarming scene.

The mom's attention bounced back and forth between the bank employee helping her, and the little girl whose hand was held snuggly within the woman's gentle grasp. The blonde, pigtailed child looked to be around three, maybe four years old, and she was wearing a cute purple romper covered in small, white hearts.

The little girl giggled at something her mother had just said, shifting Raegan's focus up to the woman's smiling face. It was impossible not to see how similar the child's features were to her mother's. Which made her think of her own mother, who'd often referred to Raegan as her Mini Me.

A slight smile lifted the corners of Raegan's lips as she remembered those moments with bittersweet reverence. She thought of a past she longed to change…and a future she'd all but given up on.

What about you? You ever thought about it?

Rocky's question from the other night rolled through her mind like a wandering tumbleweed. When he'd been over at her house, they'd briefly shared their thoughts on marriage and kids. And she'd told him those things used to be part of her plan.

The truth was, deep down, she still very much wanted a family of her own. Raegan longed for roots that dug deep. Thick, unbreakable roots with no chance of ever letting go.

But before any of that could happen, before she could let herself even think about following any sort of path, the type of future she secretly craved, Raegan first had to deal with the past. And that meant keeping herself focused on the mission rather than her appealing neighbor with his intense gaze and full, kissable?—

"Sorry." The deep, mumbled apology reached Raegan's ears half a beat after he bumped into her right shoulder.

Righting herself, she flashed the distracted teenager a forced, "That's okay," while on the inside, she was thinking…

Seriously? You can't get your head out of your phone long enough to pay attention to where you're going?

Inwardly shaking her head at the entitled, self-centered jerk, she started to look away when she really noticed how the younger man was dressed.

Black sneakers. Black jeans. Hands and phone now stuffed inside the front pocket of his black, pull-over hoodie.

It was the hoodie that really struck her as odd. For one thing, it was a sunny summer day, yet he was dressed as if it were nearing winter. And two…the hood was still up.

Why did he still have his hood covering his head?

Something's off.

Raegan's suspicion of the man kick-started her pulse. The pumping of her heart came a little faster. Her focus homed in on every aspect of the concealed man's form.

Height…roughly six feet. Weight…one-eighty, one-nighty. Slender build. A bit lanky.

She continued watching, hoping he'd turn his head enough for her to catch a full glimpse of the guy's face. Before, when he'd collided with her, she'd only been able to see his profile.

That's how she knew he was too young to legally order a beer. But as he continued walking slowly with his back to her, he looked around as if he were…what? Trying to decide which teller window to approach, maybe?

Feeling more than a little suspicious, now, Raegan started to move in closer. As she did, the teenager in black moved again, his entire body shifting as he began walking slowly toward the teller positioned in the center of the long counter.

So help me, this guy tries something stupid with that precious little girl in here…

Relief mixed with trepidation when, out of the corner of her eye, Raegan saw the mother-daughter duo wave goodbye to the smiling teller and start to walk away. Returning her focus to the kid in the hood, she was still trying to get a read on him when another customer—a frenzied, middle-aged woman trying to juggle her purse, sunglasses, keys, and a coffee—accidentally dumped the purse a few inches from where Raegan stood.

The woman looked distraught as several items spilled from the unzipped bag and began skidding and rolling around the tiled floor. Giving Raegan an exasperated frown, she quickly began apologizing for the mess.

"Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry." She sighed as she bent to gather her things. "I swear, it's just been one of those days, you know?"

Oh, yes. She was familiar with "those" types of days.

Raegan flashed the frazzled customer a quick smile. "Here. Let me help."

"Thank you so much!"

No…thank you.

The other woman had no way of knowing she'd just given Raegan the chance to—hopefully—watch the suspicious man without it being quite so noticeable.

Squatting down, she started picking up a few of the woman's scattered things. Lip gloss. Ink pen. A business card to a hair salon she'd never heard of. A scrunchy with a few brown strands of hair tangled within.

Raegan's gaze slid back and forth between the mess on the floor and the young man dressed in black.

Please let this be a simple case of paranoia run amuck. I have enough on my mind already, thank you very much.

But apparently, fate—the bitch—had already decided today was not the day to listen because just as Raegan handed the woman her things and pushed herself back to her feet, all hell started to break loose.

Despite the feeling that everything was suddenly moving in slow motion, several events took place in rapid succession…

The guy in the hood stopped walking. The shift in his stance alerted Raegan to the telltale bulge at the small of his back. She didn't have to see what was tucked beneath the shirt's thick black cotton to know exactly what it was.

Gun!

Raegan's hand flew to her hip as the suspect pulled a black pistol from the waist of his pants and pointed the barrel high into the air.

"Everyone down on the ground!" He shot a single bullet into the ceiling as soon as the order had been given.

Screams erupted, and chunks of plaster rained down from up above, but she tuned it all out. The only thing Raegan heard was the sound of her own racing heart. The only thing she was focused on…

The man who'd just turned his attention her way.

"Drop the weapon!" Her index finger left its disciplined position and began curling around the trigger.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as the pit of her stomach fell. This was the first time she'd been faced with the choice of ending someone's life since the day Samer Nasim Ali and his friends attacked the Iraqi base.

She'd made that choice several times that day before shooting Samer point-blank in the head. Raegan had passed out believing the terrorist son of a bitch was dead. But then?—

Put that shit out of your head and focus on the dickhead standing in front of you!

Hyperaware of the innocent lives around her, Raegan kept her gaze laser-focused on the man pointing his weapon straight at her head.

"Put the gun down and get your hands in the air!"

Her directive went unanswered as the man's dark eyes grew wide the moment he saw her. With him fully facing her now, she quickly committed to memory every curve of the guy's high cheekbones. Every freckle covering his long, straight nose. The light brown skin and well-structured face.

"I'm not going to tell you again." Raegan held her Glock 19 steady in her hands. "Put the weapon on the ground and raise your hands into the air!"

Worry snaked through her for the innocent lives still stuck inside the building. The bank employees who'd taken heed and ducked behind the long counter. The customers squatted down or lying face-first on the slick, cool floor.

The terrified mom and her sobbing little girl.

Raegan relied on her training and skills to tune them all out so that she could remain focused on the threat at hand. Her racing pulse became deafening in her ears as the man with the gun let his weight shift from one foot to the other.

Dark, thick lashes flattened above a set of deep, dark brown eyes. Fear continued taking up residency in the young man's gaze, but that wasn't all.

Swirling behind the browns in his stare was also confusion and determination. There was also a flash of recognition Raegan didn't understand, but before she could try to decipher what any of it meant for her and the others around her, the shooter's entire demeanor changed.

His spine straightened, and his shoulders fell back. The kid's goateed chin lifted, and the hand that had been trembling steadied itself—and the kid's gun—into an eerie calm. But it was the look in his eyes as he stared back at her that sent an ice-cold shiver down the length of Raegan's spine.

Cold.

Uncaring.

Evil.

It was a look she'd seen on more than one occasion, and there was only one way for Raegan to interpret its hidden meaning…

He's going to shoot.

At the same time the realization struck, the middle-aged man crouched down next to the counter on her right started to move.

For the love of God, just stay where you are and don't try anything stupid!

With Raegan's attention split between the would-be-robber and the idiot clearly trying to escape the danger, the hooded gunman saw the distraction as an opportunity…and took it.

He pulled his trigger. Raegan ducked her head and fired in return. Having already determined she had a clear shot with no risk of hitting an innocent, her reaction to his use of deadly force was a no-brainer.

Just like the decision to throw herself behind a nearby desk for cover.

Wood splintered around her as the man fired her way again. Several screams echoed throughout. With the shooter's attention solely fixed on trying to kill her, many of the customers saw the chance to run for freedom.

Several ran right out the front door. A woman was crying hysterically while another screamed for those outside to call the police.

The man in black shot at Raegan again. She immediately shot back. A low grunt sounded from his direction, and when she risked a quick glance around the desk's damaged corner, she found a twinge of pleasure in knowing her bullet had hit its target.

The shooter ran behind a desk several yards away. The blood trail—and the way the jerk had been favoring his left arm when she'd spotted him—were both evidence that she'd winged him, at the very least.

Raegan didn't want to shoot him again. She hadn't wanted to shoot him at all. But life had taught her more than once that young and innocent were not mutually exclusive, and if this kid didn't come to his senses soon, she may not have any other choice.

More shots flew overhead, and Raegan was forced to remain low and take cover. Looking across the lobby, her gaze met the young mother's. The look on the woman's face reached a place in Raegan's heart she never even knew existed, and suddenly there was only one thought racing through her mind…

I have to get them out of here. I can't let this man hurt that little girl!

She spun around, resting her back against the desk drawer behind her as her mind worked to come up with a plan. The guy with the gun was good, Raegan couldn't deny that. But she was better.

I have to be better.

A plan quickly began to form. Putting the steps she'd only just devised into motion, Raegan carefully slid herself over a few feet to the opposite edge of the desk keeping her hidden.

She swung her gaze back to her left, her eyes once again locking with the young mother's. Raegan held up her free hand to signal for them to wait, and without a word, she did her best to relay the plan.

When the mom gave a slight nod of her head, Raegan felt confident the other woman understood.

Please, God, let this work.

Counting down with her free hand from five to one, she mouthed the word "Now". With her next breath, she jumped up from behind the desk to shoot. Keeping her gun steady and her eyes solely focused on the place where she knew the gunman had hidden, Raegan fired several rounds without pausing in between.

As she did, the mother jumped to her feet and hoisted her daughter into her arms. With Raegan's carefully aimed bullets keeping the asshole crouched and bleeding behind the other desk, the duo was able to make it through the bank's front doors and out onto the sidewalk to safety.

The middle-aged man took off, too, and thankfully, there were enough bullets in the Glock's magazine to provide cover long enough for the three of them to escape.

The gun clicked with the next pull of the trigger, and Raegan knew the time to reload had come. Dropping low to the ground behind the same massive desk, she made herself as small as possible while more shots rang out.

Raegan's thumb pressed the small release at the side of her weapon, and the empty magazine fell into her lap. In a series of quick, seamless moves, she retrieved one of her three backups from her belt, slammed the mag into place, and pulled back the slide to load a shiny new 9 mm round into the Glock's chamber.

When the gunman continued firing toward the other corner of the desk, where she'd first been hunkered down, Raegan theorized that he hadn't seen her move.

He thinks I'm still crouched down over there. And if can't actually see me…

She risked a hidden peek over the top of the desk just as the shooter pulled his trigger again. Rather than poking his head out to actually see where his bullets were headed, the guy was keeping all but his hand and part of his forearm hidden while blindly pointing the barrel toward where he'd last seen her and pulling the trigger.

Another plan formed, and it was one she prayed wouldn't cost anyone their lives. Not wasting time second-guessing herself, Raegan fired toward him again, hoping to keep him coming back for more.

With the very next bullet that flew from the jerk's gun, she rounded the edge of the desk she was closest to now and began to move. Using near-silent steps, Raegan carefully made her way to where the shooter was hiding.

Her steps slowed to a cautious prowl as the hunter suddenly became the prey. Fear and uncertainty loomed thick in the air around her, and Raegan knew the deadly confrontation was about to come to a head.

Sneaking around the edge of the desk he was still hiding behind, she found herself mere feet from the man—the kid—who'd been trying like hell to shoot her. He was crouched down low with his back fully to her, and there was a small pool of blood collecting on the floor from where it still dripped from the wound in his left arm.

A cushioned, wheeled chair blocked the path between them, and the piece of furniture sparked an idea she prayed would pan out.

Please, please let this work.

The soft soles of her boots traversed the shiny tile floor a few inches closer. With her body low and her movements steady, Raegan held her gun at the ready and kept the breath in her lungs still. She was almost there, ready to put the last part of her plan into motion, when the would-be robber somehow sensed her presence.

He turned his head.

Their eyes became locked.

Raegan stood tall once again with a clear and concise, "Put the gun down and show me your hands."

The man froze in place, his weapon remaining gripped in his tight, unmoving fist.

"There's nowhere for you to go," she told him truthfully. "It's over. No one needs to die here today, so just put the weapon slowly on the floor and back away."

Several long, tension-filled seconds ticked by before the guy moved a single muscle. When he did, it was the hand holding the pistol that wavered, and with Raegan's next breath, the gun began to lower.

She was all but certain he was about to surrender. That he'd finally accepted defeat. But just as it appeared as though he was seconds from surrender, the asshole gave the chair between them a hard, quick shove.

The damn thing slammed straight into her shins, knocking her off her feet and onto her back. Her gun flew out of her hand and slid well out of her reach. Not bothering to waste time being pissed that he'd beaten her to the punch, Raegan didn't even think about what she did next.

She simply acted.

Kicking out with her right foot as hard as she could, she struck the chair's base with the heel of her boot, sending it flying right back into the ruthless teenager's legs. He'd just started to aim his weapon straight at her when it struck him the same way it had her, and his arms flailed as he tried like hell to keep his balance.

The gun went off, its bullet flying wildly before striking high on the wall behind her. The shooter stumbled backward and fell, his gun slipping out of his hand and sliding across the slick floor in almost the exact same manner as hers.

Raegan jumped to her feet. Having already determined the perp and his gun were both much closer than her fallen Glock, she rushed in that direction. At the same time, the shooter began crawling toward his only remaining means of defense, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt…

He gets to his gun before I do…I'm dead.

She moved lightning fast, throwing her entire body onto the guy's back to stop him. The kid was surprisingly strong, and for the next few terrifying moments, the two became locked in a battle for survival.

Raegan pulled and clawed at his good arm as he reached for the gun. The man jabbed that same elbow back hard, catching her square in the cheekbone beneath her right eye.

A flash of pain struck, and a hundred tiny, white stars filled her blurring vision. Her right eye watered, but Raegan used her left to keep track of the asshole's movements. After several more hits, kicks, and jabs, she finally, finally managed to get the gun.

"Stop!"Her authoritative voice filled the bank's interior as she held the weapon in a tight, fisted grip.

The kid's entire body locked down the moment he realized he'd been beaten.

With adrenaline racing through her entire system, Raegan gave her next order through a set of painfully clenched teeth. "Put your hands behind your back," she growled low.

Several began to clap as the guy followed the order, grimacing and moaning in pain from the strain the position put on his injured arm. With him on his stomach and her thighs straddling his lower back, Raegan kept the barrel of the prick's own gun pressed hard against the back of his head with one hand as she grabbed her cuffs and slapped them on his wrists with the other.

Leaning down, she spoke only loud enough for him to hear when she warned, "Unless you really want to die today, I suggest you don't even think about moving from this spot until you're told to do so."

Raegan kept the man's gun pointed straight at him as she carefully pushed herself back up to her feet. After retrieving her own weapon, she switched guns, keeping hers trained on the cuffed assailant while sliding the confiscated weapon into the waistband of her uniform pants.

She glanced around, her lips parting with the intention of asking those still inside the bank if they were okay when a swarm of police began flooding the bank's entrance. A quick glance at her watch, and she realized the whole terrifying scene had taken place in less than ten minutes" time.

The questions that came later, however…

Half an hour had passed, and she was still at the bank, still standing in the lobby, answering more of the same questions and giving yet another local FBI agent her full account of everything that had gone down.

The bank's manager was also being questioned, as were the remaining customers and other bank employees. The perp had already been hauled off by two of Chicago's finest, and Raegan's weapon and empty magazine had been taken as evidence.

"I think that's all I need for now." Special Agent Lisa Atwell closed the small notebook she'd been using to jot down what Raegan had shared. "I'm sure the other detectives explained how all this works."

"I may have to come down to the station for more questioning…if this goes to trial, I'll have to testify…" Her voice trailed off with the other woman's confirming nod.

"Hopefully, it won't come down to that." The seasoned detective shoved the small notebook into her jacket pocket. With her long brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, the thirty-something woman's big, striking blue eyes searched hers. "If it does, I'm confident you'll handle yourself on the stand just fine."

Raegan's brow furrowed at the unexpected compliment. "What makes you so sure?"

"Look around you, Miss Perry. You did this."

All she saw when she glanced around the bank's interior was a mess of splintered wood, broken glass, shattered tile, and smeared blood.

"I…destroyed the bank?"

"You saved lives," Agent Atwell corrected. "Normally we'd advise someone in your position to stand down and do exactly what the robber says. But given what you told me about the young man's behavior, and considering statements from numerous eyewitnesses, you made it possible for a mother and child to escape unharmed, as well as another hostage by providing cover like a pro. After that, you came up with a solid plan and followed through."

"I lost my weapon."

"You did." The other woman nodded. "But you also gained physical control over both the suspect and his weapon. And as the threat was neutralized, you retrieved your weapon and kept him under your control until help arrived. I watched the footage from the security cameras, and overall, I'd say you did a damn fine job."

You'll do better next time.

Hoping like hell those unspoken words rang true, she shook Agent Atwell's offered hand and forced a small smile to lift the corners of her lips. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. Oh, and here…" She dropped Raegan's hand to reach for something in her back pocket. When her hand appeared once again, it was holding a small, white business card. "The number on the card rings directly to me. You think of anything else, give me a call."

"I will." Raegan took the card and nodded.

The pretty agent had just started to turn away when her mobile dispatch radio—along with several others belonging to the surrounding FBI and CPD agents—came to life with a rush of staticky alerts.

Agent Atwell stopped mid-stride to retrieve the handheld radio at her hip. But before she could bring it closer to her ear for a better listen, a younger agent hurried to Atwell's side.

"We've got another one," the other agent announced. "Armed robbery in progress at the US Bank Cosmopolitan up on North Clark."

Atwell and several others raced toward the lobby doors. As they did, Raegan heard dispatch come through the radios once again. There was a third bank robbery going down at yet another US Bank branch across town.

Three robberies at the same time? That can't be a coincidence.

"Let's go!" Atwell ordered the group of agents as she and the others hurried out the doors.

Raegan turned her attention from the bank's entrance and wrapped her arms around her center. With her mind still whirling to make sense of all that had happened—and praying for those inside the other two banks—she stood in the middle of the lobby, watching woodenly as the remaining agents finished working the scene.

A short stretch of time later, she was still standing there, wondering what the hell was going on, when she heard a deep, male voice calling out her name.

"Raegan!"

She swung her head around just in time to see Rocky burst into the lobby from outside. His worried gaze found her almost immediately. The relief reflecting back at her was so instant and profound, it created a slight hitch in her breath and a tightening in her chest.

Raegan blinked, and he was there. His imposing form loomed over her as his assessing blue gaze ran in a continuous line from the top of her head all the way down to her feet.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay?"

"Rocky? W-what are you…" She looked over his broad shoulder to the bank's entrance as if the answer to her stuttering question would somehow be there.

"Answer the question, sweetheart. Are you okay?"

Sweetheart?

"I-I'm…"

She struggled to find an appropriate way to describe all she was feeling.

I'm fine. Still in shock. Happy as hell to see you, though I'm not even sure why since I barely know you. And I'm currently working damn hard not to let the ghosts from my past take over.

The truth was, Raegan was feeling all those things and more. But rather than disclose something she'd almost certainly regret later, she chose to let her voice slowly trail away into nothing.

Rocky's stare searched hers a moment longer before it landed on her slightly throbbing cheek. She could hear his sharp intake of air and knew she was probably already bruising. A muscle in the side of his strong, square jaw bulged, and when his Adam's apple bobbed, the man's hard swallow was more than a little audible.

"He hurt you."

"Jerk caught me with his elbow while we were fighting for control of his gun." She gave a shrug of her shoulder as if it were no big deal.

Given all that she'd survived in the past, a cheap shot to the face was at the very bottom of the list.

Rocky's eyes widened, and he started to lift a hand, almost as if he were thinking of reaching for her. When he stopped himself, Raegan"s disappointment nearly brought her to tears.

She had no idea why this man affected her in such an intense, profound way. Or how a guy she'd only just met could feel like such an anchor in the midst of a turbulent storm.

But with the next beat of her heart, she felt herself leaning in and wrapping her arms around Rocky's narrowed waist. Laying her uninjured cheek against his hard, sculpted chest, she clung to him as if he were her lifeline.

"I'm so glad you're here." The admission fell from her lips as a whisper.

The sentiment was crazy and confusing, and she couldn't even begin to understand its basis for being the truth. So for now, Raegan didn't bother trying.

The man's strong arms wrapped around her in the warmest, most comforting embrace. And for the first time since spotting the gun the robber had been carrying, Raegan finally felt as if she could breathe.

Safe.

The word filled her mind as if it were gospel. Which, of course, made absolutely no sense. She hardly knew this man, for crying out loud. And yet…

"Hey." Rocky pulled back far too soon. With the gentlest of touches, he reached up, carefully feathering the back of his knuckles along her tender cheek. "You sure you're okay?"

The fluttering beats of her heart made it nearly impossible to keep her lungs moving.

So much for being able to breathe.

Raegan's jerky nod probably wasn't her greatest ally, but it was the best she could come up with. Mostly because a wave of uncontrollable tremors was suddenly filling her entire system.

It's the adrenaline. Just ride it out, and you'll be fine.

As if reading her mind, Rocky's tone was soft and gentle as he told her, "The shaking will stop soon. It's just the adrenaline dump."

Rather than tell him she was familiar with the phenomenon, Raegan stared up into those steely blue eyes and asked, "H-how did you even g-get in here?"

"Remember when I said my team works closely with local law enforcement?"

Oh, right. That.

"B-but h-how did you even know about what happened?"

"I was at the office." His deep voice rumbled through him. "I…heard the sirens and saw the direction the flashing lights were headed. And then I got a news alert on my phone reporting a robbery in progress at this bank. At your bank." His throat worked with another hard swallow. "I ran straight here."

"You…ran h-here?"

"I needed to make sure you were okay."

Wow. Okay. That was…

"Thank you." Her lips curved into a tiny smile. "That was really sweet."

"Nothing to thank me for." He gave a quick shake of his blond head. "I'm just glad you're okay."

It wasn't quite the word she'd use to describe the roller coaster of emotions she was currently riding, but sure. They'd go with that for now.

"Listen, I—" She started to talk at the exact same time Rocky asked…

"Do you need anything?"

You.

Raegan cleared her throat with a shake of her head because now was not the time for those kinds of thoughts. And the longer they remained like that—with their arms loosely wrapped around each other while standing in the middle of a bloody crime scene—the stronger the urge to be anywhere else became.

"Actually, I think…" She dropped her hands and took a wide step back. "I think I'm just going to go home, crawl in bed, and wake up tomorrow as if this whole day never happened."

If only it were that easy.

The concern in Rocky's stare returned. "You really shouldn't be driving if you're?—"

"No, I'm good now." Raegan filled her lungs to their capacity before releasing a slow exhale. "See?" She held out a semi-steady hand as proof. "Barely a tremor."

"I really don't mind driving you home."

"I know you don't." Her smile grew a smidge. "And I truly do appreciate the offer, but I'm okay now. Promise."

The look in Rocky's worried gaze said he didn't quite believe her. Thankfully, her protective neighbor didn't press the subject.

"Let me see your phone."

Though she probably should have, Raegan didn't question the request. Instead, she pulled her cell from her back pocket and laid it in his outstretched palm. He was handing it back less than thirty seconds later.

"There. Now you have my number. You need someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, someone to share a beer with…anything…you call me. Got it?"

"Got it," she rasped, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"I mean it, Rae." He used a shortened version of her name. "Day or night, I don't care. Something like this…" Rocky glanced at the scene around them. "It can hit you out of nowhere."

You're preaching to the choir, big guy.

Leaning up onto her tiptoes, Raegan pressed her lips to his warm, masculine cheek. "I promise I'll call if I need anything."

She pulled back, and for a brief moment in time, their gazes became fixed. Being this close, she could make out the different shades of blues swirling behind his worried stare, but there was something else hidden there. Something she was sure he didn't want her to see.

Heat.

Despite where they were and what was going on around them, Rocky was staring down at her with a look of both concern…and an undeniable attraction.

He wants you, too.

Raegan's heart kicked hard at the thought, and her lower belly tightened with unmistakable need. Before she could do something stupid like kiss him for real, she sidestepped the gentle giant, and with a final, quick glance and a slight parting grin…

She left.