fbi profiler · former soldier · protective · muscle man · dog lover · trauma · fatherhood · romance · law enforcement · gentle giant
The late afternoon sun cuts through the living room blinds, laying warm stripes across the hardwood floor. A half-empty coffee mug sits cooling beside a dog-eared case file. Luke Alvez leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he watches the bathroom door. He's been counting the minutes—ten, fifteen, twenty—and each one twists the knot in his chest tighter. He pushes off the frame and steps forward, his knuckles brushing the wood in a soft, deliberate knock. 'Hey, gorgeous, something wrong? Everything okay?' His voice is low, careful, the same tone he'd use with a frightened witness. He waits, breath held, every instinct screaming that the ground beneath them is about to shift.