CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dakota stood in the lobby of the hotel next to Marcus as he finished checking in at the desk.
“Dakota?” he was saying, tapping her arm. “Earth to Dakota—Steele, can you hear me?”
She blinked, turning to regard where her partner was leaning against the faux-wood counter. The look of disappointment from earlier was no longer visible. Knowing Marcus, she was probably just getting stuck in the weeds of her own thoughts. Clement wasn't the type to think poorly of his partners. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was failing.
Which was why, now, she was pacing uncomfortably on the laminate floor of the cheap two-star hotel. She glanced down where his hand was tapping her wrist, his other arm c****d to support his weight against the counter. The clerk was watching the
