Page 117 of Wag More Bark Less

“Chief, we’ve got a ten-sixteen with a ten-thirty-two in progress.” I stayed close, straining to hear the conversation. I didn’t understand the codes, but I understood the tone. “I’m sorry to intrude on your leave, but we need backup.”

“Send me the address. I’m on my way.”

He ended the call with an apologetic look.

“They need you,” I said, touching his arm. I hated that our evening, numbered as they were, was interrupted. But it was the reminder I needed to keep my head clear. Luke’s time off was almost up. Reality was already seeping into the bubble we’d created.

“You’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about me.” I lifted on tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be at home, waiting for you when you get back.”

FORTY-ONE

LUKE

I was exhausted to my fucking bones when I walked through the door, unlatching my gun belt the second the lock clicked behind me. I moved to the office to hang it in the safe and rip off my bulletproof vest. The only thing better than that feeling was being buried deep inside the woman currently in my bed.

I dropped into the desk chair to untie my boots.

The light click-clack of claws pattered closer, and Ellie poked her head through the door.

“Hey, girl,” I said, welcoming her presence. I looked up, hoping to find Maggie standing behind her. But it was three in the morning, and that woman slept harder than anyone I’d ever met. Just another reason I justified keeping her in my bed. She was safer sleeping next to me than anywhere else.

Ellie placed a sock on my knee, this one green with candy canes. I stared at it for several beats, a pang of longing hitting me square in the chest.

“I wish this meant you were coming back for Christmas,” I said to Ellie, rubbing her neck. She licked my hand, and I put the sock with the others in my top desk drawer. “Let’s go check on your mom.”

Maggie was tucked under the covers, her honey-blonde hair fanned out over her pillow. She looked so peaceful, hugging my pillow against her chest.

This.

This was how it was always supposed to be.

Not just coming home to a woman in my bed, but coming home to Maggie.

This was why nothing else ever made sense.

Was fate playing a cruel joke on me with this shit timing? I was ready to settle down, but the only woman I wanted to build a life with was just rebuilding hers.

Fuck, this sucked.

I loved her.

Of course I did.

How could any man know Maggie Holland and not fall so far in love with her that he’d never find his way back?

Since she showed up in my driveway demanding the door code, she’d brought sunshine with her. And now that my eyes had finally adjusted to the brightness, it was going to be ripped away in a matter of two weeks.

I stripped off my uniform and stepped into the shower to rinse off the long-ass night. I didn’t need to take that to bed with me, so I forced myself to wash it down the drain.

Thankfully no one was hurt, but it’d been touch and go for a helluva long time. It was never fun when someone was trying to orchestrate a suicide-by-cop situation. No shots were fired, and the ex-wife the man held hostage was freed with only a couple minor scratches.

The man was in custody, and we wouldn’t have to worry about him getting out on bond until the judge was in on Monday.

I could enjoy what remained of the weekend before my leave was over, and staring at the woman in my bed, I intended to do just that.

“Hey,” a groggy Maggie said, lifting up on one elbow. “I thought I heard you come in.”