“Ha!”

They went back to work, noodling around on the last two songs until way past midnight.

“Why don’t you stay over?” He walked with her back upstairs from his basement studio.

“I’m past panic attacks, Adrian,” she lied. “My building is totally on lockdown and I’m just a regular citizen these days.”

For a solid year after she’d come back to Seattle she found herself having panic attacks. Anyone looking at her funny, any sudden, loud noises and she was transported back to that day. Back to that day when she’d been lying in a doorway, dying, helplessly watching as her baby was shredded to ribbons in the cross fire as he tried to escape, using Adele as a human shield.

“God, Erin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think about it.”

He’d held her hand often enough since that day—hell, since the letters and calls had started. He and Brody sat on either side of her all through the trial, had helped her pick up the pieces and had supported her when she wanted to come back home to Seattle.

She shook her head. “Stop feeling guilty. I’m fine. You’re fine. I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Erin kissed his cheek when they got to her car door.

She looked inside before getting in because that was something she did. The drive back to her building was quiet. The streets were pretty much empty by that hour.

Once the gate slid closed behind her in the parking garage, she sighed, feeling very tired. Her spot was very near the elevators, which was a lovely favor done because the building manager’s daughter had been a huge fan and Adrian had even shown up and introduced himself. After the manager’s wife had heard what had driven Erin back to Seattle, she got a spot even closer, right beneath a light and in full view of the surveillance cameras.

Her place was quiet but for the noise from the fish tank where the jellyfish undulated, ghostly white in the pale light coming from the partially shrouded moon.

Once she’d changed into a cami and some sleep shorts, she pulled a bottle of juice out and headed to her bedroom. Sleep would come fast, as it often did after she spent so much time in the studio.

Big brown eyes flecked with amber were the only things she thought of before drifting off.

9

Todd grinned when she pulled her Outback into his driveway. He wasn’t surprised by her choice of vehicle, or that it had purple metallic paint. He ambled out to meet her, pleased to see she’d pulled her hair into twin braids and wore faded, low-slung jeans with a thin, snug vintage T-shirt.

“This is a great neighborhood,” she said as she got out.

“I like it. I like you in it.” He swept her into a hug, burying his face in her neck.

She laughed, wrapping herself around him. “Hi there.”

“Come inside.” He took her hand and she followed him, looking around.

“Decent front yard. You should plant some flowers and stuff to add color.”

“That’s on the list. Wanna help?”

One of her eyebrows rose and he saw the small scar. “Hey, what happened to the ring?”

She touched the spot. “It closed up and I didn’t bother to get it done again.” Her shrug wasn’t defensive, but it seemed closed somehow, and he thought, not for the first time, that the flighty, carefree Erin had been edged away, smile lines replaced with those resulting from enduring emotional pain.

He led her inside and she turned in a circle. “Pretty! I love these big front windows.”

He joined her, standing very close, and she leaned back into him. He had to close his eyes at how good it felt.

“It’s nice that the trees and the shape of the lot actually give you some great privacy.”

His hands slid down her belly and up under her shirt. “No bra. You’re playing with fire,” he said as he nipped her shoulder.

“Yeah? As a former cop you’re close enough to a firefighter, right? Show me.”

He spun her so she faced the wall. “Hands on the wall.”

She obeyed immediately, canting her ass back at him. One-handed, he unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, freeing his cock. He leaned over her, caging her there with his body. One hand played with her nipple, pulling it, playing with the ring while the other hand headed down into her jeans and panties.

He groaned when he found her hot and slick. “Ready for me.” That she was so responsive to him drove him crazy. His teeth gripped the back of her neck and she bucked back against him with a feral-sounding cry. Her honey rained on his hand, easing his way as he pressed two fingers up into her gate while his thumb stroked over her clit.

He fingered her slippery cunt until she breathed out one long exhale and came. He could have lied to himself and pretended he hadn’t remembered how quickly she came, how often and seemingly effortlessly—but it was unnecessary. He was simply relieved she still came for him so easily.

Within moments he’d sheathed himself and she’d helped him shove her jeans down and off one leg. He nudged against her ankle, urging her legs apart.

“This is the best assumed position I’ve ever had the privilege of seeing,” he grunted just as he found her gate and thrust up and into her in one hard flex of his hips.

She hissed, and he saw her fingers curl into the wall. He’d ached for her for the last week, not getting enough from their phone calls and e-mails. He’d f**ked his fist over and over and it had not been enough. Right at that moment he had to have her. Right then. It wasn’t the time for long, slow lovemaking.