Page 63 of Shadow

He too got up, closing up the pizza boxes. “Sometimes. You think I take too many risks. I think you’re too controlling. But we always make up because we love each other more than we annoy each other.”

Daphne’s chest tightened. The cover story was good. Believable. Detailed enough to hold up to scrutiny.

And dangerous enough to make her forget it was fake.

She rinsed the dishes, put them in the dishwasher.

Asher threw out the pizza boxes after transferring the leftovers into one. “I’ll take first watch.”

“You don’t have to⁠—”

“Yes, I do. You’ve been securing the house all afternoon. My turn. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you at two for second shift.”

Daphne watched him move through the house, checking doors. Professional. Competent. Protective.

Something her father used to say echoed in her mind: Good cops don’t stop being cops when they go home. They keep watch. Keep everyone safe. Can’t turn it off.

Asher couldn’t turn it off either.

“Thank you,” she said. “For the groceries. The chocolate. The coffee. All of it.”

He paused. Looked at her. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

She headed upstairs to the bonus room. Made up the pullout sofa bed with sheets from the linen closet. Changed into sleeping clothes—yoga pants, tank top. Always ready to move.

Lay down.

Tried to sleep.

Couldn’t.

Because Asher’s words kept echoing: Wanted to stop the evil instead of just cleaning up after it.

Her father used to say the same thing. Used to talk about making a difference. Protecting people. Standing between the innocent and the darkness.

Asher reminded her of her father.

Oh boy.

Daphne got up and moved to the railing. Looked down into the living room below.

Asher sat on the sectional. Book in his hands. Reading. Alert but calm. Keeping watch.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked up.

Their eyes met across the distance.

He smiled. Small. Almost shy. Not the operative smile or the professional smile. Something real.

Something moved inside her chest. Shifted. Settled into a space she’d thought was permanently closed.

Daphne stepped back from the railing. Returned to the pullout bed.

Lay down again.

Stared at the ceiling.

She needed to be careful. Needed to keep boundaries. Needed to remember this was operational necessity, not real life.