That image is enough to bring me back to our research. “True, but we can’t discount the other two metals.” Blake nods, and we go back to clicking and reading, reading and clicking.

Sometime later, I have no idea if it’s been minutes or hours, Blake puts his hand over mine to stop my mouse scrolling.

I glance up at him and have to blink away the dryness in my eyes from staring at the screen. “What?”

“C’mon. We might not get the answer tonight, but I need to feed you.”

My brows knit together, confused. “I’m not hungry. And what if the answer is in the next paragraph? Or on the next website?”

“Then that paragraph and website will be there tomorrow,” Blake reminds me. “And what if it’s not? Plus, your stomach’s been growling for the last fifteen minutes.”

I slap my hands over my belly, feeling heat flush my cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“I know. And you looked so cute, lips moving along as you read and light sparkling in your eyes as you considered every word. I couldn’t bear to stop you. But I need to get home to Chunky too.”

“Oh!” I exclaim. “Sorry! I’ll let you go. I just . . .” I trail off, standing and scrambling to grab my purse and the toxicology report printout. “I lost track of time. I’ll let you get home. Sorry.”

I try to hand the paper to Blake, and he tilts his head, eyeing me with a questioning look as he takes my hand instead of the printout.

“Zoey.” His voice is firm and quiet, stopping me in an instant.

Even my brain shuts up and tunes in to Blake. “Yes?”

“I’m not telling you to go. I’m saying ‘let’s go’. The both of us.”

There’s no question mark in what he’s saying, but the question is in his eyes. Along with his desire. “Oh.”

Apparently, that’s all I can say, but he doesn’t need any more. He closes his laptop and puts it in a bag, which he throws over his shoulder.

“Let’s go,” he tells me. No questions at all this time.

I consider arguing, once again trying to save his ass if he’s not inclined to do it for himself, but then he turns, and when confronted with that ass in slim-fitting business slacks, all I can do is follow him out the door like he’s the Pied Piper.

Hopefully, not to either of our deaths.

Chapter 13

Blake

For the third time, I glance up into my rearview mirror, but Zoey’s right there, just as she’s been since we pulled out of my office’s lot. She’s following me, and I count it as a major victory.