He yanked the truck door closed with a snort. If he was smart, he’d go home and keep a protective watch from afar. She’d been all smiles and hugs after he sprang Bruiser on her. He’d gotten a kick out of watching her. She’d looked like an excited little kid as the dog slobbered over her face. But that hug—the one she’d given him for Mrs. O’Reilly’s benefit—hadn’t felt like a kid’s hug at all. Worse than that, he’d wanted it to be real. Except he wasn’t so sure anymore if she shared his faith. Never mind that another incident like yesterday’s break-in was bound to drive her back to the city faster than he could say goodbye. He peered through the windshield at the darkening sky. A gust of wind whipped the tree limbs into a frenzy. Looked as if they were in for a bad storm. Which made for the kind of night most people would hole up at home. Hopefully, Bec’s prowler was one of them, because so far Josh hadn’t tracked down a single Henry Smith that matched their suspect’s description.
