Page 308 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“You missed the part where he kissed me on the top of the head in the dark and told me to stay as long as I like.”

She makes a show of shaking her head in mock disgust of my breaking my own rules, but I know she’s secretly fist pumping beneath the surface. “Yeah, just minor details. Like sweet and endearing details.”

I can’t help the uncharacteristic smile on my lips or the warmth that spreads within me. I don’t do tender or intimate. Hell, I don’t do anything near the sort, but then again . . . this is Grant we’re talking about. There is some level of comfort with him that I’m not used to.

It’s only one night, Em.

“He obviously trusts you,” she muses.

“Well,” I laugh the word out, “it doesn’t go both ways.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Drop it, Des.”

She angles me a look that says she’s confused, and it matches how I feel inside.

It’s amazing that no matter how many strides I take forward—how normal my life is—a simple thing like the word “trust” can force my past to come back and slap me.

Grant doesn’t deserve it.

Then again, neither did I.

“Hot damn.” Nate smacks his hands on my kitchen counter and scares the shit out of me. “I knew you got laid last week.”

“What?” I look up from where I’m tying my boots.

Where the hell is this coming from?

“There’s lipstick on this mug,” he says as he lifts the coffee cup he was just taking a sip from.

“There is?” I mutter with a shake of my head. “My fucking brothers.”

“Gray and Grady are wearing lipstick now? Wow. I thought they’d go for more of a red than a pink.” He laughs as he dumps his coffee into the sink and grabs a new mug.

“No. They washed the cup after Emers—”

“I knew it!” Nate shouts from the kitchen. “You did get laid.” He flashes a knowing grin that I ignore as I move to my other boot.

“I sure did.”

“See? You can’t hide shit from me.”

“You’re a real detective. Maybe you should put in for a promotion,” I deflect.

“Nah, there’s only room for one of us to steal center stage at a time. I’ll leave it to you to put that fucker Stetson in his place.”

I glance at my watch. “C’mon. Fill your cup. Our shift’s about to start and there’s somewhere I want to stop before we clock in.”

“Sure thing.” He puts the creamer back in the refrigerator. “And you can fill me in on all the details on the way.”

“Humor me, will you?” I say to Nate as I pull the cruiser along the curb and put it in park.

His deep sigh fills the car. He doesn’t have to say a word to let me know he thinks I’m way over the line.

He’ll get over it.

The street is silent as I exit the car. The garage door is closed, and the driveway is empty. But there are new rocks painted in the planters along the walkway to the house.