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“Are those”—she leaned closer, inspecting my palm, driving me absolutely insane with that smell of hers—“breadcrumbs?”
I pulled my gaze away from her pretty face and looked at my hand. I felt like an idiot. Of course a cat wouldn’t fall for bread from a breakfast sandwich. But in my defense, there had been bacon. I’d used it to catch him in the first place.
I frowned. “There was bacon at some point.”
She nodded, trying to be polite, then rose and turned to reach for the crate in the back and set the treats inside. The very move positioned the side of her hip right next to my face.
Don’t look at her ass. Don’t look at her ass.
I looked at her ass while she was busy luring Thor into the cage with her treats. God, those tight jeans really showed every curve. Even the one disappearing in between her long legs.
I swallowed. That strong tingle spread through my chest and stomach again.
“There you go!” Mila said in a cheerful tone as she zipped closed the pet carrier. With a smile of victory, she lifted the carrier from the back and sat down next to me again, cat and carrier on her lap. Her sparkling eyes found mine. Even if I tried, I couldn’t help but smile back at her. This smile was a force on its own. Beautiful, raw, an innocent reflection of the sweet woman she probably was. To be honest, her smile was one of the most stunning things I’d ever seen.
“Just like that, huh?” I said, looking through the mesh of the crate at Thor, who was happily eating the treats.
“Just like that.”
“Lucky bastard,” I said, nodding at her lap.
The moment those words had left my lips, the mood in the truck changed from a warm, friendly summer evening to an icy cold winter night. With fiery red cheeks, her blue eyes locked on mine in shock as if I was a complete sleazeball. And right now, I honestly felt like I was. I was a cop for Christ’s sake, and she part of an investigation. I was a grown man in my thirties. She was a young woman in her early twenties at the most. I’d never said anything this creepy before. Never. Period. I’d just never had to. Getting women had never been an issue for me. So why was I acting like a seventy-year-old virgin around her?
“I better get Pinky inside,” Mila said in a soft voice as she opened the door.
Please don’t leave. Not yet.
I nodded, trying hard not to throw my head into my hands in shame.
“Thor,” was all I was able to mumble to her as she stepped out of the truck with the carrier in her hands. She turned and blinked her wide eyes at me.
“What?”
“The cat. His name is Thor.”
Her brow shot up. “I was told it was Pinky.”
Pinching my lips, I lifted my hands to showcase my battle scratches, then blew a ball of cat fur off my chest.
“That cat ain’t no Pinky.”
For a moment, she just stared at me, then broke out into laughter. A heavy rock fell off my chest. It was as if I’d managed to make that narrow curve on a mountain road just in time before driving off. It was such a delight watching her laugh.
“I better get Thor inside,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “You can pick him back up tomorrow, Officer...”
“Davis.”
She nodded.
“They said your name is Mila, right?”
She nodded again.
“Call me Noah.”
Her eyes wandered onto my chest. My nameplate to be precise. The very plate that read J. Davis, not N. Davis!
Amateur! Your undercover name is John Davis. Why the hell are you telling her your real name! You’ve done this a thousand times, lied without even blinking in the faces of hardcore criminals pointing guns at you, and now you can’t get your story straight in front of some innocent vet student?
