"It's part of my job, Ernie. I have to defend my guy. You know this." Wash's voice was grittier than only a few moments before.
I slowly turned my face back to Ernie, giving him a chance to stop looking down my top before getting caught.
"I don't know, man." Ernie's cheeks pinked a bit, making him even more all-American boy.
I leaned a smidge farther. "Please let us through. If anyone asks we won't say a word about you. You have my word." I stuck my hand out, and he took it.
He shook it gently and then simply held it in his. Wash shifted and clenched a fist on his thigh.
Ernie shook his head, his blond locks falling across his forehead. "Well, hell. Fine. But don't mention me, got it?"
I squeezed his hand before pulling mine away. "Got it."
Ernie smiled sheepishly. "Do you, like, have a card or someth-"
"Thanks, Ernie." Wash hit the gas, and Ernie had to back away quickly.
"Hey!" I sat up. "You could have squished his foot or something."
"Nah." Wash pulled up on the far edge of the cruisers, either to keep a low profile or to set us up for a fast getaway. "He's fine. I got him out of a jam when he was still a pipsqueak in high school. He owes me. You didn't have to do that . . . that thing you did."
"Do what? Convince him to let us through?"
We got out. Wash, brows drawn down tight, slammed his door and looked at me over the roof of the car. "No, flirt with him. You didn't have to . . . to . . ."
He threw his hands up.
Was this happening? Were we doing this at a crime scene? I finally knew what people meant when they said they wanted to strangle someone. At that moment, wrapping my fingers around his throat seemed like an excellent idea.
"You're being ridiculous." I walked around the car and stared up into his eyes, daring him to say something else.
He glowered at me, the hardass in full force. But then his gaze slipped to my lips, and something other than ire lit his eyes. He gripped my shoulders and backed me into the car. I made a high-pitched sound when he pressed his body into mine.
"You make me crazy, Caroline."
I met his gaze, defiant even as my body warmed to his touch, his aggression. "I can see that."
He stroked down my cheek and rested his fingers around my neck. "Do you know what I wanted to do when he touched you? Any idea?"
"I was just-"
He kept talking right over me. "I wanted to break every finger of his that touched you. So he'd know you're mine. So he'd know that touching you was a goddamn crime."
"That-yes, that's a little crazy." I nodded even as he moved closer, his lips a tantalizing lure.
"I know it is. It's not the sort of man I am. At least it wasn't. Not until you." He slid his fingertips down to my collarbone. "Now I'm losing my mind if another man so much as smiles at you."
Breathing eluded me as his deep gaze swallowed me whole. His touch was light, yet erotic. He moved even closer. All I had to do was push up on my toes and I would taste him again.
A static-filled walkie-talkie blared from the tangle of police cruisers. Wash dropped his hand and backed away, the moment gone. I felt exposed without his body covering mine, without his heat reflecting my own. I stepped away from the car and squared my shoulders. Get it together.
He ran his hand through his hair, and I suspected he might have had the same thought. If we could both get our shit together, maybe we could actually investigate the crime scene instead of pawing at each other.
"Come on." He turned and stalked through the row of cars.
I followed, avoiding the muddy potholes and taking his hand as he helped me down a leaf-strewn embankment on the far side of the road. We picked our way through the trees, following the sound of voices.
Up ahead the tributary sparkled in the sunlight and would have reflected the sky had it been clear instead of a muddy brown. The officers had their backs to us as we approached, though a couple gave us questioning glances. Wash seemed to pick out a particular state trooper and beelined for him.
"Toby." Wash pulled me alongside him, my boots already covered in muck.
The trooper turned around and took both of us in. He looked to be in his forties. His smooth brown skin was marred with a jagged scar along his jaw and down his neck. I wondered what sort of story was behind such a mark. He tipped his wide-brimmed hat at me and smiled warmly at Wash. "Long time no see."
"Yeah, I've been busy beating up on the local cops. I try not to tangle with the professional trooper types like yourself."