"Gabe?"

I shake my head and snuggle back into the pillow, trying to drift back to sleep. The combination of exhaustion, stress, and sex is a potent one and I'm going to need a week of sleep to recover.

"Gabe, Rudy's barking," Chloe grumbles.

"He'll be fine," I say.

For a few minutes I drift back to sleep and then Rudy starts barking again and this time it sounds like he's trying to claw his way through the door. With a curse, I throw the covers off of my legs and reach blindly for a pair of sweats that are, generally, always on the floor beside my bed. I slip them on and stumble for the bedroom door.

I find Rudy outside my bedroom and glare at him. "Next time I'm going to lock you up in a cage when we go to bed," I tell him.

He pants happily as we walk through the dark hallway to the patio door. I yawn as I yank it open to let him out and he races across the lawn to his favorite bushes.

While he's doing his business, I figure I might as well get something to drink because the marathon sex gave me a powerful thirst. As I make myself a glass of ice water, I consider how to play the morning after, so to speak.

It's probably too early to start talking commitments and considering both of our romantic histories, one of us is likely to balk if we start moving too quickly. The best option is for us to take this slowly. Hell, that's probably what people call dating. The thought makes me frown, but fuck it. If that's what I have to do to keep her coming back, I will.

I drain the glass of water and immediately make another. I chug that one as well and by that time, Rudy's done outside and is scratching to come back in.

"You're lucky you're cute," I tell him as I close the door behind him.

When I look up, I catch a movement in the glass and I only have a few seconds to duck before the gun the man is holding discharges and a bullet shatters the glass. My leg screams in pain as I crouch down and glass rains down around me.

"Get up," the man shouts.

"I'm about fucking sick of people pointing guns in my face," I say as I get to my feet. I feel wetness on my thigh and my feet are probably sliced to hell, but I'm done.

The man flicks on the dining room light where the dishes from our dinner still sit and I nearly fall backward when I realize who the man is.

It's the captain. The one no one's been able to find since Jones threw him overboard that night. He sure doesn't look dead.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, trying, and failing to keep my voice level.

"I'm here to finish what that idiot couldn't."

"Finish..." I trail off. "What are you talking about?"

"He never was good enough for my daughter," he says.

"Daughter?" I repeat numbly. "Your daughter."

"Shelia," he says. "He never appreciated her, but man, I never thought he was stupid as well as useless."

My brain, still hazy with sleep, takes a second to piece things together. When I do, my first thought is of Chloe, who's still in the other room. If she isn't awake by now, it'd be a miracle.

"You're—"

"That's right. Sheila's father. Phillip Langford."

"We saved you," I say.

Phillip spits on the floor by my feet. "You ruined me. My daughter is dead because of you."

I shake my head, but the images of Samuel Jones and his wife, both still, so goddamned still, surface in my brain, distracting me even as the gun twitches in Phillip's hand.

"I never meant for anyone to get hurt," I tell him. I start to back up into the backyard. I don't even feel it as the shards of glass bite into the soft soles of my feet.

"I give a fuck for your intentions. Now shut the fuck up and get that bitch out here, too."

I make it across the doorway and take the first step onto the back porch. He jerks the gun at me.

"Don't take another step," he says as he moves toward me, "or I'll fucking shoot you right now."

"I won't let you hurt her," I tell him.

He takes a step closer. "Too bad," he says.

Then he jerks forward with a sound of surprise and I find Chloe behind him, with a bat she must have found in my closet, poised over him.

"Are you okay?" she asks breathlessly.

"I don't think we can see each other anymore," I tell Gabe once the furor dies down.

He looks at me, too exhausted to react. "Why's that?"

"Your life is much too exciting for me," I say emphatically.

Laughter dances in his eyes, even though he can barely keep his head up. "That so?"

Somehow, our hands find each other. I don't know if it was a conscious decision on our part, or if we've somehow forged a link through tragedy that can never be broken. Either way, I don't want to let go.

"Yes," I say, once I manage to find the words. "I think I'm over the excitement. After this, only boring dates from now on."

Gabe grunts as he shoulders through the paramedics working on him to sit beside me in the ambulance. Red and blue lights play over his face. "So this was a date?"

I chew on my bottom lip and look down at my feet. Shit, was I wrong? Was this too soon? I knew I should have kept things casual. I shake my head mentally. I never learn. After Thomas, you think I'd be a pro at knowing when a man wants to ditch me.

He thumbs my chin up. "I don't know if I could call this a date," he says. When I start to pull away he holds me captive. "What I feel for you goes past the normal get-to-know-you stage, Chloe. I don't have a name for it, but I do know I want to see you again. I don't want this to end."

My spine straightens and I wrap my uninjured arm around my waist to contain the urge to jump up and tackle him. "You don't?"

Gabe shakes his head and his hand slides down to cup my cheek. I find myself leaning into his touch despite my better judgment.

"Of course not."

"But what about—"

He kisses me and then leans his forehead against mine. There are paramedics, policemen, and even F.B.I agents darting around us. It's chaos, but when he moves even closer to nuzzle my cheek with his own, the world spins away until it's just the two of us.

"Hey, Gabe," Tyler interrupts, breaking the moment.

I try to contain my frustration and blow a piece of hair out of my face. Gabe's fingers tense against my cheek, and if I weren't so close, I would have missed his low growl.

"What is it?" he asks.

Tyler's knowing smile splits his face. "Gotta couple questions for you. Paperwork."

Gabe's fingers knot in my hair. I burst out laughing. Tyler chuckles along with me.

"Swear to God, man, if you don't disappear, I'm banning you from the shack."

The smile fades from Tyler's lips. "That's low," he says.

"So is interrupting me when I'm in the middle of something. Again."

Tyler ignores Gabe's fierce scowl and holds up a hand to me. "Nice to see you again, Chloe," he says.

I take his hand and shake. "You, too."

"Five seconds," is all Gabe says.

Tyler laughs. "Good luck with this jackass. He's a handful."

Glancing back at the jackass in question, I just smile. "I think I can handle him."

He claps a hand on Gabe's back. "Make sure to drop by the station when you're feeling up to it."

Gabe jerks his chin in acknowledgment.

When we're alone again, he runs his hand over my hair. "Look, I'm exhausted, you're exhausted. I've never been good at the emotional crap. The only thing I know is I don't want you to leave yet. I'd like to get to know you more, spend some time with you when we aren't getting shot at."

My smile builds slowly. "Boring, you mean."

"I could use a little boring," he says.

"Are you sure you aren't going to get tired of it after a while?"

He kisses me again, this time it's all languid strokes and softness. When he pulls away, he's breathing hard and he's anchored to me as much as I am to him. "Look, I can't see the future. Just...stay. Stay with me."

My heart swells at his request. I'm momentarily rendered speechless, so I do the only thing I can think of which doesn't need words. I lean toward him, a smile sitting on my lips, and kiss him.