Blood in the Ozarks

21. Cian Harding

"Cian," I whispered to myself on an exhale.

I couldn't hold back the shock I felt seeing Cian standing outside my little diner think tank. He was really there. In person.

Cian Harding stood on the sidewalk of Jerry's Diner not far from where one of our victims was found. His large frame hunched over as he stared in concentration at the small phone screen in his oversized palm. Upon first glance, I realized how deeply I missed the most random things about him. The sandy blonde hair that stood up on the back of his neck, the way he jabbed at his phone with his index finger to type when he was frustrated, and the fact that even as the bitter wind started to kick up signaling the on-coming winter, he relied only on a beige wool sweater to keep back the cold. All these little things were so quintessential Cian, and they're the reason that I sprinted through the diner's glass door and ran straight into his arms.

Cian wrapped me in his waiting arms, inhaling deeply. Despite my sense of guilt and dread when he initially called, Cian's warm body flushed against mine felt reassuring. There was a familiar comfort I'd been missing; the only kind you can get from being near someone you love.

When Cian finally drew back, concern clouded his normally crisp blue eyes. "Where's Ortega?" He asked.

My whole body tightened every nerve on edge. "Inside." My gaze flicked toward the shades drawn over the diner's large front windows. "Why?"

His concerned scowl faded into a light and playful grin. "Because I'd feel bad if he had to witness this."

In one swift motion, Cian's lips were on mine. The kiss was hard and long like he was trying to show the world he wished to possess me. My head tilted back with the force of his lips on mine, and soon my back followed in an arch.

I'd only left him a few days ago, but with everything that had happened since I came to Little Bluff time had warped and stretched. Time didn't exist on the same plane when you were working a case. But seeing Cian take off his sunglasses and his megawatt smile reach his baby blues brought life back to reality. He brought home to me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked with disbelief.

Cian's arms were still wrapped around me and his hand began to rub my back gently. "I thought you might need some help on this one."

I moved back from the closeness of his embrace, his hands continuing to hold my waist loosely. "Why would you think that?"

"Because of the fourth body. I thought since you hadn't logged much on the case that you may need a fresh set of eyes." I stared up at the eyes in question, knowing fully I hadn't logged much because I'd been too busy running all over town questioning witnesses and fiends alike. But he was also right—I had next to nothing. Cian tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, the warmth of his hand lingered on my skin. "And I missed you," he added.

"I missed you too." My smile was genuine and filled with the relief of his presence.

He leaned in and I backed away. "But I have the case under control."

Shaking his head with a small smile he reassured me, "I never said you didn't."

"Then why are you here?"

"I barely got to see you between your last case and this one. You were home a whole—what?—72 hours maybe. And then I got word they're thinking about sending you to Dallas as soon as this is wrapped up. I thought if I was ever going to see you again, I'd have to come to you."

"Dallas? What's wrong in Dallas?"

"I'm afraid I can't speak about on-going investig—"

I gave him a soft tap to the stomach with the back of my hand.