how you’ll sleep tonight after that, but you got it.” Or how his body could take any more adrenaline. She was still wired—her nerve endings tingling through her fingertips and toes.
Leading the way to her office, she dropped her bag on the navy sofa piled high with navy-and-white coastal-themed pillows—images of sea turtles, crabs, and starfish lining the fluffy back. She didn’t get to spend much time on the sofa, but it was a nice place to sit and read when she had research to do.
She moved to the espresso machine she’d picked up on her last trip to Rome and turned it on. The machine purred to life while she ground the illy beans—the deep scent of roasted coffee filled the air. She tamped the espresso grounds into the container, slid it in place, and hit the On button. The machine set to work, steaming with a high-pitched whistle before the ebony liquid streamed out. She waited for the froth to drop, and then hit the Off button and handed him his cup.
“Thanks. Smells delicious. And you too?” His eyes widened. “I mean . . . Aren’t you having espresso too ?” He leaned againstthe counter and took a sip, his cheeks slightly red-tinged beneath his evening scruff. Never thought she’d see the day when Ranger McCray was embarrassed.
She pulled another silver illy coffee container out of the cabinet. “Decaf.”
He smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to see me without sleep.” She began the process all over, again reveling in the soothing scent of the beans.
Griffin lifted the small blue cup to his lips. “I already have.” He took another sip.
She lifted a brow. When had he seen her without sleep? “Oh . . . right.” The night they’d found Jane Doe. They had stayed up all night. “Your coffee helped.”
“I’m glad, but this . . .” He lifted the cup. “Is divinely better.”
“It’s hard to beat illy.” It was the best.
They took a seat on her sofa, and she kicked her feet up onto the ottoman. The hammering of her heart finally slowed to a peaceful, contented beat. She had been utterly grateful for Griffin’s steadfast presence that night and again today. He’d helped calm her, despite the threat of danger. She’d seriously thought their midnight visitor at Gettysburg had just been a local curious about their find, but after their close call with the sniper today, she was rethinking it all. She glanced to her desk, remembering the package Patricia had mentioned, and frowned. “That’s weird.”
“What is?”
“Patricia said UPS left a package on my desk, but there’s nothing there.” She stood and moved to it, searching the desktop and all around it in case the package had dropped, but there was no package to be found.
Griffin helped her search the rest of her office.
“Any chance someone else picked it up?” he asked when they’d finished a full sweep of the room.
She shook her head. “Not without me signing off on it first.” They had a set protocol everyone followed.
“Maybe it got delivered to the wrong office.”
“Ed knows my office. I always make him a cappuccino to go when he drops by.”
“Maybe it wasn’t Ed.”
“Hmm. I suppose someone could be filling in.” It’d happened a time or two. “Patricia never said Ed. Just said the UPS man.”
“I’ll bet that’s it.”
“What’s it?” Declan asked from the doorway, lifting his brows with a cheeky grin. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Finley restrained a frown. She wasn’t ready to lose her alone time with Griffin yet. She felt like she was finally getting to really know him, to see beyond the gruff exterior he liked to keep in place.
Watching him in action today . . . feeling his protective hand on her back . . . His strong arms wrapped around her—for as short a time as it may have been—had stirred feelings she hadn’t felt since before . . .
Her stomach knotted.
On the other hand, the sniper situation had also
Leading the way to her office, she dropped her bag on the navy sofa piled high with navy-and-white coastal-themed pillows—images of sea turtles, crabs, and starfish lining the fluffy back. She didn’t get to spend much time on the sofa, but it was a nice place to sit and read when she had research to do.
She moved to the espresso machine she’d picked up on her last trip to Rome and turned it on. The machine purred to life while she ground the illy beans—the deep scent of roasted coffee filled the air. She tamped the espresso grounds into the container, slid it in place, and hit the On button. The machine set to work, steaming with a high-pitched whistle before the ebony liquid streamed out. She waited for the froth to drop, and then hit the Off button and handed him his cup.
“Thanks. Smells delicious. And you too?” His eyes widened. “I mean . . . Aren’t you having espresso too ?” He leaned againstthe counter and took a sip, his cheeks slightly red-tinged beneath his evening scruff. Never thought she’d see the day when Ranger McCray was embarrassed.
She pulled another silver illy coffee container out of the cabinet. “Decaf.”
He smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to see me without sleep.” She began the process all over, again reveling in the soothing scent of the beans.
Griffin lifted the small blue cup to his lips. “I already have.” He took another sip.
She lifted a brow. When had he seen her without sleep? “Oh . . . right.” The night they’d found Jane Doe. They had stayed up all night. “Your coffee helped.”
“I’m glad, but this . . .” He lifted the cup. “Is divinely better.”
“It’s hard to beat illy.” It was the best.
They took a seat on her sofa, and she kicked her feet up onto the ottoman. The hammering of her heart finally slowed to a peaceful, contented beat. She had been utterly grateful for Griffin’s steadfast presence that night and again today. He’d helped calm her, despite the threat of danger. She’d seriously thought their midnight visitor at Gettysburg had just been a local curious about their find, but after their close call with the sniper today, she was rethinking it all. She glanced to her desk, remembering the package Patricia had mentioned, and frowned. “That’s weird.”
“What is?”
“Patricia said UPS left a package on my desk, but there’s nothing there.” She stood and moved to it, searching the desktop and all around it in case the package had dropped, but there was no package to be found.
Griffin helped her search the rest of her office.
“Any chance someone else picked it up?” he asked when they’d finished a full sweep of the room.
She shook her head. “Not without me signing off on it first.” They had a set protocol everyone followed.
“Maybe it got delivered to the wrong office.”
“Ed knows my office. I always make him a cappuccino to go when he drops by.”
“Maybe it wasn’t Ed.”
“Hmm. I suppose someone could be filling in.” It’d happened a time or two. “Patricia never said Ed. Just said the UPS man.”
“I’ll bet that’s it.”
“What’s it?” Declan asked from the doorway, lifting his brows with a cheeky grin. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Finley restrained a frown. She wasn’t ready to lose her alone time with Griffin yet. She felt like she was finally getting to really know him, to see beyond the gruff exterior he liked to keep in place.
Watching him in action today . . . feeling his protective hand on her back . . . His strong arms wrapped around her—for as short a time as it may have been—had stirred feelings she hadn’t felt since before . . .
Her stomach knotted.
On the other hand, the sniper situation had also
Similar Books
