Page 39 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

That got the smallest huff of something almost like a laugh out of her. They worked in comfortable quiet after that—blankets, brushes, the soft, ordinary business of putting two animals away for the night.

But his attention kept sliding to Sarah, and he brushed the same patch of Bon Jovi’s shoulder three times before he noticed. The line of her shoulders had eased, snow still melting in pale tracks through her hair where her hat had slipped. He hadn’t seen her this relaxed all day.

He’d stopped thinking of Sarah Meyer as Wyatt’s little sister.

It wasn’t a revelation. It was an admission.

He’d stopped comparing her to the girl she’d been. The woman in front of him required no comparison at all.

She bent to brush the last of the snow from Bon Jovi’s flank and muttered something dry about the playlist needing an update after a day like this.

Hudson laughed, and she looked up at the sound.

Bon Jovi shifted his weight. Leather creaked softly somewhere behind him. Dust whirled gold in the last of the light.

She stepped around Bon Jovi’s shoulder at the same moment Hudson did. One moment there had been comfortable space between them. The next it had narrowed to a breath.

Sarah’s eyes lifted to his, and his heart leaped.

He had the absurd certainty that if either of them spoke, the moment would break.

A lock of hair lay against her cheek, damp with melted snow.

His hand lifted to brush it away.

Stopped.

He wanted her too much to make the touch casual.

He let his hand fall.

Sarah’s breath hitched, and she stepped back. She looked down at the brush still in her hand as though she’d forgotten why she’d picked it up in the first place. She gave a small shake of her head, almost to herself. “Good night, Hudson.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She set the brush on the rail, gathered her jacket tighter around herself, and walked out into the dark toward her truck and didn’t look back.

Everything in him wanted to follow. But he stayed where he was and let her go. Fifteen years ago he’d walked away because he’d believed leaving was the kindest thing he could do. Rushing her now would only prove he hadn’t learned a damn thing.

Maybe she’d stepped away because she wanted to. Maybe because she needed to.

Either way, Sarah got to choose what happened next.

Bon Jovi shoved him hard enough to make him stumble. Hudson caught himself against the stall rail. Bon Jovi nosed him and exhaled a long, gusty sigh into his palm.

Hudson looked toward the empty stable door. “That obvious, huh?”

16

Early the next morning, Sarah frowned at the second mug.

She lived alone.

She stared at it for a second longer than made sense before sliding it back into the cupboard. “Ridiculous.”

She hadn't slept well, that was all. After yesterday, Walter had insisted on regular patrol sweeps past her house. Every time a cruiser rolled by she'd woken, listened until the sound faded, then eventually drifted back to sleep.

I’m just tired.

She poured the coffee, spooned sugar, and sat down at the kitchen table. She wrapped both hands around it more out of habit than any need for the warmth. Her thumb moved along the rim absently. The heat pulled her somewhere she didn’t want to go.