Copper Script

by K.J. Charles

Detective Sergeant Aaron Fowler massaged the base of his skull. It didn’t relieve the pain in his neck, because that was sitting opposite him in an expensive suit.

It tasted like most Scotch to him, which was to say burning leaf mulch, but he settled back and sipped at it.

Aaron shut his eyes. He’d found Wildsmith by turn bewildering, provocative, alarming, infuriating, arousing. He thought this kindness might be the most devastating facet yet.

He’d wanted to make things better in a world that screamed for help, and he’d sacrificed so much for that and been so lonely, and he wished he could say, It was worth it.

Aaron wasn’t sure how this level of aggressive sarcasm could make him feel so warm inside.

Those dark eyes were devastating at close range, with the warm depths of a cup of coffee, and just as liable to keep him up at night.

Kissing like starving men, or like frightened, despairing, slightly drunk ones.

All I’ve been doing for so long is living with things. Keeping on with them, putting up with them. And then I met you and now this, you and me, it doesn’t feel like ‘living with’ at all. It’s living. Actually having things that matter instead of the days just passing. I want more of that. I want all I can get, even if we can’t get much.”

Common sense dictated he should. Common sense collided with Joel, and lost.

Joel’s mouth moved soundlessly. Aaron took a moment to appreciate that rare occurrence.