LITMIR.BIZ

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wasn’t sure Officer Finley—he’d seen her name on the badge—even knew what fun was. All work, no play was the vibe she gave, with her perfectly pressed uniform and no-nonsense ponytail. No jewelry, no noticeable makeup. Of course, she hadn’t needed any, not with her looks. She almost had an exotic appeal, like a buttoned-up version of Angelina Jolie. He had a way with animals and women, and something told him there was a vixen hiding behind that badge.

      The fawn pushed up against him, demanding attention.

      “All right, I get it. You’re almost as bossy as she was.” He took a minute to smooth down the bedding, and then headed toward the main building, the animal tottering along beside him. He was just about to unlock the door when the sound of gravel crunching announced a visitor. He’d wondered if she’d show. He waved, then waited as she climbed down, then opened the back door and pulled out a flat white box. Oh, holy hell. She’d brought food.

      “If some of that’s for me, you can arrest me right now and I won’t resist.”

      She startled for a second, then shrugged and grinned. “You said you wanted pizza, and I hadn’t eaten yet, so...”

      “So you took pity on me. I wouldn’t have thought I liked pity, but if it comes with pepperoni I think my ego can handle it.”

      “Pepperoni and sausage.”

      “My angel of mercy. Come on in.” He held the door for her, flipping on the lights to illuminate the way-too-small office area that served as command central. He pointed to the largest of the cheap metal desks. “You can sit at my desk if you like. I’ve got to go finish up with the fawn, but it shouldn’t take me very long.”

      “I can help, if you like. Might go faster with two people.”

      That he hadn’t expected. Maybe he was right, and she wasn’t as standoffish as she pretended to be. “Sure, another set of hands is always welcome here.”

      Picking up the fawn, who had curled up on the floor at his feet, he headed for the door at the rear of the room. “The treatment area is back here.”

      Without being asked, she flipped the switch by the doorway, flooding the large utilitarian space with fluorescent light. Twice the size of the office and reception area, the room boasted stainless-steel counters, refrigerators, an industrial washer and dryer, and several examination tables. One full wall was taken up by cages of various sizes, only one of which was occupied. The current resident, a tortoise with a wounded foot, looked up and then promptly went back to sleep.

      Dylan put the fawn down on a large walk-on scale and made a mental note of its weight. He’d fill out a treatment form for him once he was settled. “Officer, could you keep an eye on our furry friend here, while I mix up some formula for him?”

      “Sure.” She took his place at the orphan’s side, stroking the dappled fur.

      He moved to the back counter, where the milk replacement powder and bottles were kept. “You know, if we’re going to eat pizza together, maybe you could tell me your first name? It seems a bit formal to keep calling you Officer.”

      She bit her lip, obviously more comfortable with that layer of formality between them, before nodding reluctantly. “It’s Sam, Sam Finley. I guess I didn’t get around to introducing myself before.”

      “No worries.” He knew when to back off, when to stop pushing. She was as skittish as the fawn, more so really. The little deer had already started bonding with him. She, however, was doing that one-step-forward, two-steps-back thing that he often saw in the animals they took in. Better to let things lie for a bit, rather than scare her off.

      He mixed up the powder with warm water, then screwed the top on the bottle. “Want to try feeding him?”

      She looked up, eyes wide. “Me?”

      “Sure. It’s not hard, and he might appreciate a woman’s touch. He certainly seems taken with you.”

      She looked down to where the fawn was practically wrapped around her legs, then reached for the bottle. “Just tell me what to do. I don’t want to hurt him.”

      He handed it to her. “You won’t. Just tickle his lips with it a bit, and hold on tight.”

      She started to crouch down to the fawn’s level.

      “No, up high. Remember, the mama deer would be standing up.” He guided her arm up into the right position, surprised by the firmness of her biceps and by the heat that shot through him at the casual touch. She was stronger than he’d realized, and more potent, too. Like aged whiskey, she packed a quiet punch.

      Leaning against the counter, he watched as she coaxed the deer. Her smile was back, and when the hungry baby head butted her clumsily she actually laughed out loud. “Careful, or I’m going to start think you’re a nice person.”

      She looked up, startled. “Excuse me?”

      “First you bring pizza, now you’re helping out and enjoying it. Laughing even. What happened to the by-the-book wildlife officer that held me at gunpoint?”

Chapter Three

      Sam turned back to the deer, her shoulders stiffening. “You’re right. I’m on duty, I should let you do this so I can do what I need to do. Then I can get out of your way.”

      “Hey, I’m just teasing.” He motioned for her to stay where she was. “I mean, you do seem different, but in a good way. No offense, but you were giving off a very different vibe out there in the woods.”

      “Maybe because it was a crime scene?”

      He shook his head, rejecting her defense. “No, I mean, sure, that explains some of it. But you’re doing it again right now, putting up some kind of virtual keep-out sign. Which, hey, if that’s the way you want it, is fine. We can go back to the cops-and-robbers routine if you like that better.”

      No, damn it, she didn’t like that better. Keeping people at a distance was exactly the opposite of what she was supposed to be doing. Old habits died hard, but if she was going to learn to connect to the citizens here, to earn the kind of trust she needed for her job, she needed to find a way to be more approachable. Too bad she had no idea where to start.

      Realizing he might be mistaking her silence for agreement, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “I’m kind of out of practice when it comes to making friends.” Pathetic, but true.

      But he didn’t laugh, or question her statement. Just shrugged. “I’m out of practice when it comes to following orders, if that helps. Not a lot of perfect people walking around. But I think you might be better at making friends than you think.” He pointed at the fawn, who had finished the bottle and was now curled up on the floor, his head on her foot, fast asleep.

      “It’s easier with animals. They don’t expect you to know about the latest fashions or which pop singer is divorcing which reality star.”

      He laughed, and her breath caught in her chest. Energy and beauty radiated from him like warmth from the sun. He was everything she wasn’t. And he didn’t even know it.

      “I think maybe you’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowds of people, if you think that’s what they want to talk about.”

      “I haven’t been doing a lot of hanging out at all. Work keeps me pretty busy.”

      “Uh-huh.” He moved in closer, then bent and scooped up the sleepy fawn. “Most people, at least the ones worth knowing, are looking for the same things the rest of the living world wants. Someone to stick by them, someone they can trust and, yeah, someone to have fun with.”

      “It’s that last part that I need to work on.” Why was she telling him all this? He obviously had no idea what it was like to be on the outside looking in.

      “Maybe you just need a bit of practice. Having

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