The smile made her want to hug him, and maybe love him up some more. Stupid smile.

He can cook and give good massages. What more do you need in a husband?

He was in uniform, gun at his hip, expression dialed to Dirty Harry, and just looking at him had something pinging low in Chloe’s belly.

Heat skittered through her belly, then directly south. “Sawyer.” In answer, he brought his head up and kissed her. Deep, hungry, tasting her in a purposely slow, thorough manner before pulling back to once again look into her eyes. Oh, God. “Sawyer, what are we doing?” she whispered. He shook his head. “No f#cking clue.

He felt his heart roll, exposing its underbelly. Nothing he could do about that. He was equipped to eliminate threats, protect and serve. Not to love. Never to love.

He handed her the other half of his candy bar. She stared at it like it was a brick of gold. "I'm on a diet." But she took it. "A see-food diet, apparently. I see food and I eat it.

Mallory dropped her head to the steering wheel. "Look, I'm mad at you, okay? This isn't about me. I know my painful memories are relative. My life is good. I'm lucky. This isn't about how poor little Mallory has had it so hard. I'm not falling apart or anything." He stroked a hand down her back. "Of course you're not. You're just holding the steering wheel up with your head for a minute, that's all.