The woman in his arms was addicted to gum. Not crack. Not kinky sex. Not booze. Not shopping. Not nagging a man or controlling him.

Gum.

Fucking gum.

He smiled against her neck.

“Chace,” she called, a tremor in her soft, now somewhat husky voice. Uncertainty, a hint of fear. He felt her body tightening, preparing, bracing, not knowing, as he’d taught her not to know, what was coming next but knowing it could be unpleasant and his head came up.

“I lost him on Cheyenne Street,” he announced.

She blinked, faster this time before she whispered a stammered, “Wh… what?”

“Figure he made me though I don’t know when. Had him through town, up Navajo, down Ute, he was moving quick but not in an obvious hurry. Nervous, scouting, but like it was his normal routine, not afraid. He turned down Cheyenne and he was wind.”

“Oh,” she whispered, disappointed.

“Seein’ as I don’t know when he made me, he could live out there and he caught on I was followin’ him and disappeared on his way home or, if he made me earlier, he purposefully led me off-track.”

Her head tipped slightly to the side and she reminded him, “He’s nine or ten, Chace, and again, you’re acting like he’s a criminal mastermind. He’s just a kid.”

Fuck, it was whacked, it was his name but he loved it when she called him Chace in that voice of hers. It went clean through him every time and when it went through him it went in a f**king good way.

“He’s a street kid,” he reminded her back.

“Yes, a street kid, not a criminal mastermind.”

He gave her a squeeze and dipped his face close to hers at the same time he dipped his voice low and said, “Baby, I’m a cop. Just trust I know what I’m talkin’ bout. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she whispered immediately and it wasn’t lost on Chace that that wasn’t the first time he called her baby and, after, she immediately gave in.

He filed this away for future reference then asked, “What’s next in your scheduled haul?”

“My scheduled haul?”

“For the kid.”

“Oh,” she said quietly then, unfortunately, her hands moved but fortunately they only moved so she could c**k her arms to her sides and rest them flat on his chest so she moved but didn’t move away. She then kept talking. “More food. Cereal this time, I think, so I’ll need to get him more milk. Maybe a bowl, plate, spoon, fork, knife and a sleeping bag just in case he’s sleeping rough.” Her eyes drifted away and she muttered, “I’ll go to the mall tonight after work. I promised him another stash tomorrow.” She focused back on him. “And I’ll write another note. Introduce myself, tell him a little about me. So, you know, maybe if he starts to get to know me he might begin to trust me.”

“My turn,” Chace replied. “I’ll get the food and the sleeping bag and I’ll bring it, pizza and beer to your place tonight. I’ll be there at seven.”

That got him another blink and when she was done he saw it bought him that look of hers, eyes wide, lips parted, shock, wonder, f**king cute.

“Pizza and beer at my place?” she whispered.

“Seven,” he didn’t whisper but said that one word firm.

Her chin suddenly tipped down so she could look at her hands on his chest. Then her eyes darted around as her body got tight and he knew she was finally realizing where she was and therefore belatedly freaking out.

To contain this, he kept his one arm tight at her waist and slid the other hand out of her hair but did it gliding his fingers through it then feeling it drift over his hand as he wrapped his other arm around her shoulder blades.

“Faye,” he called and her eyes darted to him.

“What’s happening?” Her question was quiet.

“Honey, cast your mind back,” he urged gently. “Two minutes ago, I was kissin’ you. Three days ago, I was dancin’ with you. You know what’s happening.”

She shook her head and stammered, “I… I…” With visible effort she pulled it together and went on, even quieter this time, “The last time I kissed –”

Chace cut her off, “This time I kissed you.”

“Is there a distinction?” she asked.

“I told you I didn’t like surprises. You surprised me. I didn’t react very well.”

Her spine straightened. He saw it and this time felt it and her eyes narrowed when she agreed, “No, you really didn’t.”

What he did f**ked her up. He knew it then, he knew it now. He hated it then, he hated it now. He was lucky as all hell to be standing right where he was and he knew that too.

But since he was and she wasn’t throwing a shit fit, pushing him off or shutting down, he took that as a sign and powered through.

“You’re right,” he whispered, holding her narrowed eyes. “I really didn’t.”

She put slight pressure on his chest and snapped, “You’re giving me mixed messages, Detective Keaton.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Hearing her call him that, denying him something he’d come to love in the expanse of two weeks, thinking for years he’d never get his shot to hold the town’s pretty librarian in his arms just as he was doing right then. What he’d just endured with Bonar, all that coming back up. Faye being angry, pulling away. Something he’d been keeping a tenuous hold on for a long f**king time snapped inside him and he instantly decided to power through a different way.

He put not slight pressure on her entire body, his arms tightening, his frame pressing her into the door, his face getting close and he growled, “Right then, here’s one that isn’t mixed. Do not call me Detective Keaton. To you, I… am… Chace.”

“Oh…” she breathed then kept breathing when she finished, “kay.”

“Okay what?” he prompted.

“Okay, Chace,” she whispered immediately.

“Good,” he kept growling, “we got that down. Now we’ll get this straight and not mixed. You know my shit’s f**ked up. I’m workin’ on that. You popped up with bad timing once and surprised me another time. I didn’t handle either of those well. The shit I’m workin’ through, I cannot promise I’ll do any better. What I can promise is I like the way you dress. I like the sound of your voice. I like the way you smell. I like that your hair feels the way it looks, like silk. I like the way you taste. I like that you got a backbone. I like it when you get scared of me. I like it when you stand up to me. I like it that you care as much as you do for a kid you don’t know jack about. I like it that you have no clue how to kiss but still, the two kisses I’ve shared with you are the best I’ve ever had. By far. I like all of that more than is healthy for me but especially for you. But I like it so much, I’m gonna ignore that and hope like f**k this doesn’t get jacked like everything else in my life has a tendency to do. I like it so much I’m willin’ to take that risk. I like it so much that I’ve decided you’re gonna take that risk with me. And I’ll make that straight too. I’m not asking you to take that risk, I’m tellin’ you you’re doin’ it. That means I’ll be at your place at seven with pizza, beer, a sleeping bag and food for our kid.”