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"I want."

"What time?"

"Whenever you're done. I'll be here working on this logo and probably going slowly insane."

I kiss her, and she makes that sound again, the one from last night that nearly broke me. When I pull back, we're both breathing harder.

"I'll text you," I say.

"Okay."

I force myself to leave. To walk out to my truck and drive away even though all I want to do is stay.

In the rearview mirror, I watch her standing on the porch in my henley, arms crossed against the cool morning air, watching me go.

The drive into town feels longer than usual. I'm thinking about the way she looked at breakfast, comfortable and real. About the way she admitted she's scared but willing to try anyway. About the fact that I checked her car and phone for tracking devices like it was the most natural thing in the world.

About how I'm already thinking of her safety as my responsibility.

The station is quiet when I get there. There's a stack of paperwork waiting for me at my desk, incident reports and budget reviews and emails from the county about training requirements.

I pull up the database and run Trevor Hayes's name again, checking for any activity overnight.

Nothing. No credit card use, no traffic stops, no hotel check-ins. If he's still in the area, he's either paying cash or staying with someone.

I spend the next two hours on actual work. Reviewing shift schedules, responding to emails, dealing with a property dispute between neighbors on the east side of town that's been going on for six months.

The work is mind-numbing, and normally I'd just power through it. Today I keep checking the clock.

At eleven-thirty, Ethan looks over at me and grins. "You going to see her?"

"I'm going to check in. Make sure she's okay."

"Right. Check in…"

"Ethan!"

"What? I think it's great. You've been alone since you moved back here, and it's not healthy. You need someone."

"I don't need anyone."

"Everyone needs someone. And she seems nice. Pretty. Clearly into you if she let you spend the night."

"We didn't..."

"But you wanted to, and that's progress."

I don't dignify that with a response. Instead, I stand up and grab my keys. "I'm going to pick up lunch from Mae's and check on Lyla. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Sure you will."

"I'm serious."

"I believe you." He doesn't believe me at all.

Mae's is busy with the lunch crowd when I stop in. She sees me and her eyebrows go up in that knowing way she has.

"Twice in two days," she says. "People are going to talk."