In Your Arms: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 1) by Erin Sloane Page A

growth on his chin. Sleep hadn’t stuck with him much the previous night and the beer in front of him now wasn’t doing a lot of good to his dry mouth. He stood, drained his glass, and turned to leave.
    “Grab me another if you’re going to the bar, Kiwi?” Butch called out, holding up an almost empty beer.
    “I’m going to turn in.” Adam gave a nod to the small gathering of cops as he headed for the door.
    “You smooth bastard. Who is she?”
    Raucous laughter ushered him from the bar.

9
    M arlo’s stomach gave a small flip as Adam walked toward the office. She hadn’t seen him for a few days and during that time she’d deconstructed their dinner together, tried to recall every conversation, each nuance and gesture. She had so little dating practice she couldn’t tell if he was being nice, or if he was feeling that same chaotic fascination that she did.
    At the door, they had shared that kiss. More of that would have been nice. In fact, she didn’t have to think too much to recall that it had been better than nice. Not a steaming hot, open-mouth, thrusting-tongue kiss, like the ones in books, but careful, gentle, unthreatening. Maybe that’s what a polite, fatherly kiss was. Having never had one, she had nothing to judge by.
    But it had been on the lips.
    The office door opened. Oh, crap, here he is. She kept her eyes on the computer screen as he entered the office, pretending she was deep into the article she was reading. “Hey,” she threw out, all casual.
    “Hey there. Any coffee going?”
    When he brushed her arm as he passed it singed like a branding iron and she jumped. That overactive startle reflex still needed some work. She stayed focused on the computer monitor. Using the mouse to scroll down the screen she found her hands were dancing independently like a hyperactive kid.
    “So, coffee?”
    “Sure, yeah.” God, what had happened to her? She’d turned into an idiot. She pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ll fix it.”
    “Are you sure? You’re not going to go breaking any crockery again, are you?”
    Had he noticed her shaking hands? Probably. Cops noticed everything. She sat back down. “Okay, you do it. Mine is black, no sugar.” He could make the coffee, and she could take a moment to whip her hormones back into line.
    Once settled with their coffees, Marlo asked about Richmond. Adam scratched at a small spot of dirt on his jeans and when satisfied he looked up. “There were a lot of dead dogs out there. It makes me more concerned about Justice because after what he’s been through, I’m surprised he doesn’t want to rip each one of us to shreds. Do you think he’s safe? I mean, how does an animal come through that and not harbor some sort of grudge?”
    Marlo touched his arm. The spontaneity of the move surprised her. Touch was a large part of working with the dogs, yet she couldn’t recall a time she’d made the same gesture to a person. That signal of consolation could easily be misread. “I think revenge is more a human emotion. The dogs live for the day.”
    “Those dogs went through hell.”
    “And you’ve seen it.” As he moved, the muscle of his arm rippled beneath her palm. She snatched her hand away. What was she doing? “Sorry.”
    He frowned slightly. “Don’t be sorry.”
    “No, I mean sorry you had to see that…in Richmond.”
    “Ah. Unfortunately, I’m used to sights like that.” He replaced his empty coffee mug on the desk. “Before we become too maudlin, tell me about the videoing you want me to do.”
    Saved by a clear plan and a job to do. “I’m still trying to get Justice to take food from me. We’re so close but not there yet, so there has to be something he’s trying to tell me that I’m not seeing. If you can video what’s going on I can study it and see what cues I’m missing. Basically, I’ll be the food dispenser and you can be the cameraman.”
    Adam picked up the camera and sighted her through the viewfinder. “Hitchcock