I don’t know if I make a noise or if he just senses me, but he lowers the papers he’s looking over and meets my gaze before his eyes slowly wander over my face and down my body, then lift back to mine.

“How do you feel?” It’s hard to think or even breathe. Things would probably be easier if I wasn’t so attracted to him, and he didn’t intrigue me as much as he does. But I am attracted to him, and he does intrigue me. He’s like a painting in my head that hasn’t been finished, and I want to work on it until it’s done—until I figure out exactly what makes him, him.

“Not as tired,” I tell him, watching PJ lift his head and look at me. He doesn’t jump up and get off the couch to greet me like I expect him to. Instead, he rolls to his back, giving Dayton his belly. “I’m sorry for sleeping for so long.”

“Why? You needed it.”

“Yeah,” I agree quietly.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes, but I’ll get out of your hair and go home. I’ll probably have some toast and go back to bed.”

“I have bread here.” He leans forward, placing the papers he’s holding down on the coffee table before he stands. “And a toaster.” He takes off his glasses. I can’t decide if he looks better with them or without them.

“Oh, nooow you want to come see me.” I smile when PJ hops off the couch and scampers over to me. “Was he okay?”

I pick him up, then tip my head back to Dayton as he steps toward me.

“Yep, we’re buds now.” He rubs the top of PJ’s head.

“How did you pull that off?”

“I bribed him with bacon and let him run off-leash in my brother’s private backyard in the back of the building.”

“So you spoiled him?” I laugh, and he smiles. The sight of it causes my stomach to fill with butterflies.

“What matters is we’re cool now.” He moves his hand from the top of PJ’s head and touches my jaw with the tips of his fingers, sending a spiral of sensations through my body before he lets it fall away. “Come sit and eat something.”

I don’t put up a fight. I like being in his presence; it’s easy, and there’s something about him that makes me feel weirdly safe, even if I hardly know him. I follow him to the open kitchen, where he pulls out a stool from the island for me. Taking a seat, I run my fingers through PJ’s fur as Dayton gets a loaf of bread out of one cabinet and a toaster from another.

“Were you working on your case?” I ask him as he opens the fridge.