“Yeah, okay,” he agreed roughly.

“Where are you flying out of?”

“Scott Air Force Base, it’s close to Belleville.”

“And how’re you getting out there? That’s like a five-hour drive.”

“I have a flight out of O’Hare.”

“Okay.”

His eyes were locked on mine.

“Call me when you get wherever you’re going and then when you’re on your way home.”

“I’ll try.”

“Remember, body armor is your friend.”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay,” I mumbled. “You should leave me your set of keys for the car, too, in case it gets sold at auction while you’re gone.”

The service sold the cars and other items seized during drug raids, and those being used in the field were all available from a catalog.

“Here,” he answered, retrieving them from his pocket and putting them on the counter. “Thanks for not offering to drive me to the airport.”

That had been a disaster the last time, with me sitting in the car gripping the steering wheel and him fiddling with the contents of his backpack. “Sure. I have the spare set for your place, so I’ll grab your mail and pick up Chickie.”

“Thanks.”

“Course. Your wolf is in safe hands with me.”

“He’s a husky.”

“Crossed with a wolf and a malamute, yeah, I know.” I teased him, thinking the whole time, God, he’s beautiful.

Stepping into me, he hugged me tight, the guy clench, just for a moment. But when he went to pull away, I tightened my hold for a second, turning my head so I could inhale the scent of his skin and nestle my face in his hair.

He shivered, and since I didn’t want to freak him out, I let go. “Okay, buddy,” I said, smiling. “Be safe.”

His eyes searched mine. “You too.”

“I only have to watch for ricochets,” I teased.

“Don’t go in buildings without backup or jump off any balconies.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay,” he husked.

“Okay,” I echoed and patted his shoulder one last time. “Bye.”

He gave me a trace of a grin before he turned and left, walking out to the living room to collect the rest of his stuff.

I made myself busy even as I felt my chest tighten and my throat go dry. Loading the dishwasher became very important.

“I’ll see ya soon,” he called from the front door. “Go drop off Chickie before you go in. You know my dad takes him during the day.”

“Yessir,” I said, tracking him as he hit the front door, smiled warmly, and was then gone.

Telling myself he would be okay, he always was, I went upstairs to get ready for my day. And first I had to stop and pick up his werewolf.

IAN’S APARTMENT was a pit. It was small, it had jalousies on every window, and the walls were made of cement. It was like living in a giant cinderblock. It was fortunate there was no carpet in the entire place, otherwise his wolf would have torn it up. When I opened the front door, he came at me, snarling, growling, all flattened ears and snapping jaws. I knew why, of course. I was walking into his territory instead of him coming into mine.

“Knock it off,” I groused, scowling as he bore down on me before I smiled and crooned, “Chickie Baby.”

The whimper of happiness as he realized it was me before the dancing began was very cute. He was no longer a bloodthirsty predator; he was a big cuddly puppy.

“Stupid dog,” I greeted him, not even having to bend to pet his massive head. His back reached my hip. “Who else would be stupid enough to come in here?”

He wriggled next to me, finally taking my hand gently in his jaws to get me to pay more attention to him. Squatting down, I scratched behind his ears as he licked my chin and shoved his nose in the side of my neck.

“Come on, doofus. Let’s take you outside before we get in the car.”

I grabbed his leash from where it hung beside Ian’s bike on a peg on the wall. The apartment was such a bachelor pad, with things like an ironing board hanging on brackets in the entryway. The extra light hanging beside his bed belonged at a construction site, the shatter-resistant utility kind on a long cord with a hook at the top. It was lucky the man was gorgeous, because otherwise he’d never get a woman to spend more than a few minutes there.

I drove from his place in Hyde Park out to Marynook where his father lived and stopped in front of the small single-story postwar suburban tract residence with the big front picture window. As I walked up the gate and opened it, Ian’s father stepped out onto the porch and lifted a hand in greeting.

“Miro,” he called out as I let the leash go and Chickie streaked to the older man.

Down onto one knee Colin Doyle went, and I watched the dog slow himself so he didn’t barrel forward and knock him over.

Tags: Mary Calmes Marshals Crime
Source: readsnovelonline.net