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concerned.
    Unlocking her apartment, she pushed it open and stepped inside. The lights were on. She left them on because she didn’t like the dark. She and her friend Janey Mackay were a lot alike in that regard. The dark was a lonely place to be for Rogue.
    The large, open living room and kitchen greeted her. Spotlessly clean, because she really didn’t spend much time in her so-called home. The dark brown leather couch and chairs were comfortable; the scarred coffee table was an antique she hadn’t had time to refinish. Or perhaps just hadn’t made time. There was something about those scars of time on it that appealed to her.
    The double doors into her bedroom were open, a low light on her bed stand shining into the room. And it was quiet. So quiet.
    Maybe she needed a cat. A cat would at least meow at her when she came in, or so Janey had assured her.
    Shaking her head, she paced over to the tall, wide windows and drew a curtain back enough to stare into the parking lot below. Just in time to watch Zeke Mayes pull into the lot in the full-sized farm pickup he drove when he wasn’t on duty.
    Hell. He was going to be in civilian clothes.
    She watched closely as he parked, opened the door, and stepped out beneath one of the bright lights shining overhead. Her mouth watered.
    A long-sleeved white button-up shirt was tucked into snug jeans. She thought he might be wearing boots. There was the glint of his badge on the pocket of his jeans. He wore it like that sometimes, and she thought it was the sexiest damned thing she had ever seen.
    She wondered where his handcuffs were.
    Her fingers clenched on the material of the curtains as she felt herself heat at the sight of him. She might be a virgin, but she knew all the signs of arousal and a night that was most likely going to involve toys of some sort.
    Her clit was swollen, the bare folds of her sex felt flushed and damp. Her nipples were peaking beneath the camisole and vest, and she could feel that nervous little flutter attacking her stomach and thighs. Just the sight of him was enough to sensitize her body.
    It was lust. Lust was a powerful force, she reminded herself. It couldn’t have anything to do with the need to just curl into his arms and rest there. That was weakness, not lust. It was loneliness. She had separated herself from most friendships, she hadn’t allowed herself a lover because she couldn’t have the lover she wanted. So comfort wasn’t something she knew a lot about. But it was something she missed more often than not.
    Running her hands down the sides of her skirt, Rogue pulled back from the window and drew in a deep, hard breath. She could almost feel him moving closer. Through the bar, his shoulders brushing against the women who would crowd closer, just to feel the heat and hardness of his corded, muscular body.
    She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of him herself. The way his body seemed to wrap around her when he almost, just almost brushed against her. Zeke always made certain he didn’t actually touch her unless he had no choice.
    The jarring ring of the phone had her eyes jerking open. Frowning, she pulled the cell phone from the clip at her side and flipped it open after checking the number.
    “Yeah, Jonesy?”
    “Sheriff wants to talk to you,” he growled. “You in?”
    Her lips almost twitched at his protectiveness. “Yes, Jonesy. Send him on up.”
    Jonesy grunted and she could almost see the wrinkles in his brow as he frowned.
    Flipping the phone closed, she laid it on the table by the couch and moved to the door. She opened it, pulled it wide, and moved back to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Something to do with herself as she waited. To calm herself, to settle her vulnerabilities until she could reestablish her shields.
    Joe and Jaime’s deaths had thrown her. It had left her drifting, uncertain, questioning too many things in her life. The twins were two of the few people she had allowed herself to care for in the