Lauren woke to find Wyatt already up, dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt, standing at her bedroom window with his phone pressed to his ear. He was listening, and he mustn't like what he was hearing because his body language screamed tension.

She pushed herself upright, watching him. The early morning light filtering through the curtains caught the hard line of his jaw, the set of his shoulders, the way his hand rested near his hip where she was guessing his weapon was already ...