Page 26 of Manner of Death

A split second later, Bashir understood why—the muffled ring of a cell phone.

“Shit.” Sawyer dug into his pocket. “I’m sorry. I gotta take this.”

Bashir nodded his understanding. God knew he’d been there. And didn’t it just figure he couldn’t get through a date without someone—

His own phone buzzed in his pocket.

You have got to be shitting me.

Exhaling hard, he took it out and accepted the call.

In under a minute, they’d both ended their calls, and they locked eyes over the table.

Sawyer glanced at Bashir’s phone. “Let me guess—body found behind a grocery store with eyes and tongue cut out?”

Bashir sighed. “Maybe we should carpool.”

Sawyer gave a dry laugh, and he flagged down their server. As Sawyer explained the situation and handed over his credit card, Bashir couldn’t help the disappointment. He’d shift gears and focus on the deceased as soon as he was at the scene, but admittedly, he gave himself a moment to be a little bummed out and pissed off that something had interrupted this date before it had even gotten off the ground. Because despite himself—despite his certainty that this would be a disaster—he’d been warming up quickly to Sawyer. He hadn’t even had a chance to hear Sawyer tell him about his life, where he came from, how he’d ended up here. If all the rumors about his messy Hollywood dynasty family were true.

Maybe they could try this again another time. But for now, they had work to do. From the sound of it, the body had been there for at most thirty, maybe forty minutes, and just going by the dispatcher’s description, time of death hadn’t been much earlier than that. CSIs were en route, cops had secured the area, and the responding officer was diligently photographing and documenting everything. There was nothing anyone could do to save the person, but maybe they could figure out who’d murdered them.

After Sawyer had settled up with the restaurant, he and Bashir hurried out, heading for the parking garage. They really could’ve carpooled, but that would just turn heads and start rumors. Neither of them needed that, and once they were on scene, no one needed to be focused on anyone except the decedent, witnesses, and next of kin.

“I guess I’ll see you there,” Bashir muttered.

“Yeah.” Keys jingled in Sawyer’s hand. “See you there.”

They exchanged glances, then headed in opposite directions.

He’d made it all of two steps, when…

“Bashir.”

He turned around. “Hmm?”

Sawyer held his gaze for a moment, jaw working as if he were trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

Then he took a step closer.

Cupped the sides of Bashir’s neck.

And kissed him.

Bashir tensed at first—hell, he was already tense because he was heading to a death scene—but he couldn’t help relaxing into Sawyer’s touch. Into the intriguing softness of his lips and the scuff of his chin.

It was quick. A handful of seconds. This really wasn’t the time or place to indulge in more—not when duty called—but when they came up for air, they were both breathing hard.

“Sorry.” Sawyer’s fingers were light and a little unsteady on Bashir’s neck before he let go. “I just, uh…” He swallowed. “Didn’t want tonight to end without doing that.”

Then he strode away toward his car, leaving Bashir standing there with his head spinning and his lips tingling.

Only for a second, though. He shook himself, pulled on his professionalism, and shifted his concentration to the decedent as he continued toward his own car.

But after they were done investigating this scene, he vowed to himself, there would be a second date.

Chapter 8

For the love of God, get your mind on the crime scene.