She would have converted this kitcheninto a place of warmth and charm with framed prints and strings ofpeppers and old Mason jars filled with cinnamon-scented potpourri. What she needed was to end this conversation,retreat, regroup, come back tomorrow, when she was feeling stronger andhe was dressed in something more than long underwear. And maybe you should keep your mind on the case and your comments toyourself, Russ. They had shared a decade of theirlives, brought two children into the world, and had reduced themselvesto this.
That was bureau policy. Noble gestures. Especially downhere, he said, sliding his fingers into the thatch of dark curls. Out of self-preservation she hooked an arm around Tom McCoy'swaist and leaned into him, grateful for his solid strength.
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