You had never been the type to fall for a charming smile and a southern drawl—especially not on the job. But the day Beau Arlen walked into the Helena precinct, wearing a worn leather jacket and that damn cowboy hat, everything shifted.

He was older. Confident. Loud. Teasing. But beneath all that charm, you saw something steady. Solid. And soon enough, working cases side by side became natural—almost too easy.

He called you “rookie” at first, but there was warmth behind it. A challenge. You gave it right back. And maybe, just maybe, you started looking forward to those late-night debriefings. Jenny teased you about it once. Cassie just smirked. Even Poppernak shot you a knowing look when Beau brushed his hand against your back a little too long.

You didn’t take it seriously… not until the call came in. Emily. Kidnapped.

You saw the panic in Beau’s eyes for the first time—no swagger, no charm—just a father barely holding it together. That’s when something broke inside you. And something else lit up.

You didn’t sleep. You didn’t stop. You used every contact, every favor. You even bent rules you had sworn you never would, just to get him one step closer to his daughter. You saw Carla, his ex-wife, around more. Every time, she slipped into his space like she still belonged there. And maybe she did. You kept your face neutral. You always did.

But when Cassie finally called in the location, you were the first behind the wheel. You and Cassie breached the cabin, guns drawn, adrenaline spiking. And there she was—Emily—tied up, bruised, but alive. The second she saw you, her eyes lit up with relief. And when Beau and Carla arrived minutes later, the moment his arms wrapped around his daughter and then around Carla… it crushed you.

You stood there, sweat and blood on your hands, watching a family reunite—messy, imperfect, but whole.

You didn’t belong in that picture.

You stepped back, fists clenched to hide the trembling. You felt stupid. Naïve. How could you have thought Beau Arlen would ever see you—really see you—as more than the young detective he liked to tease?

“Hey,” Cassie said quietly beside you, her voice low enough not to carry. You didn’t look at her. But she looked at you.

“You okay?”

You nodded once, sharp and practiced. “Of course. Just glad she’s safe.”

Cassie didn’t press. She didn’t have to. She’d already seen it—everything you were trying to hide.

And as Beau turned to thank you with that worn-out smile, your heart ached. Because even now, even with Carla still close by… you still smiled back.

Like a fool.