by Devney Perry
“Cole! Do you want pizza?”
Poppy and I jerked apart, our heads turning toward Mom as she walked through the side door into the garage.
“Fuck,” I muttered at the same time Poppy whimpered.
I stepped out of Poppy’s space and frowned at Mom. She wouldn’t have been able to see us from the side doorway, so I couldn’t get too mad, but damn—kiss blocked by my mother. It felt like the time in high school when she’d caught me making out with my girlfriend in the driveway.
“Oh, Poppy!” Mom said, walking around the old truck. “I didn’t realize you were still here. We’re ordering pizza. Will you stay?”
She smiled. “Sure. Thanks, Mia.”
“Cole and Brad both like meat lovers, but I get the veggie. Is that okay?”
“Sounds great.”
“Okay! I’ll call you when it gets here.” Mom winked at me before she turned around and went back out the door.
I ran a hand through my hair and took a few seconds to get my dick under control. He’d gotten the idea that he’d be getting more than just my hand tonight and was jammed against my zipper, ready to come out and play.
Poppy’s fingers were working themselves in tangled circles, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Sorry.” I held up my hands. “You said slow.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m just . . .”
“Hey.” I stepped back toward the bench, trapping her hands between mine before they flailed. “We’ll go slow until you’re ready to pick up the pace. Just give me the signal when you’re ready.” I let her go and demonstrated my version of her wrist spin thing. “There. Give me that signal.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
I walked down the bench to the mini-fridge and took out another beer. “Want one?”
“Yes, please.”
I opened the bottle and handed it over. Tipping the amber glass to her lips, she took a long swallow. The way her sexy throat moved as she drank wasn’t doing anything to help the problem in my jeans.
She set down her beer and let her eyes wander over the tool bench. They lingered on my gun and badge a few feet away. “Can I, um . . .” She pointed to my gun.
I set down my beer and picked up the Glock, sliding it out of the holster. “Sure. The safety is on and I unloaded it when I got here.”
She held it carefully in her palm. “I don’t know much about handguns. I’ve only ever used a rifle when I did hunter’s safety as a kid. It’s heavy.” Slowly, she wrapped the grip with both hands. “Do you hold it like this?”
I shook my head and repositioned her hands so that one was around the grip and the other under the base to support its weight. “Like that. This gun would be way too big for you without a lot of practice. It’s got a hell of a recoil and it’s made for larger hands. Most of the female officers I know carry a smaller version of this.”
This one would probably send her arms over her head and rock her back a foot or two.
Kind of like how the killer took the recoil in the liquor store shooting.
What the fuck? My mind started to race. How had I not thought of this? How had any of us not thought of this? What if Jamie’s killer was a woman?
I ran a hand over my face as things dawned in a new light. Simmons hadn’t royally fucked up this murder case. He’d just looked at it from the most obvious angle. He’d been searching for a man.
We’d all been searching for a man.
“Cole?”
I blinked and focused back on Poppy. “Sorry. I was just thinking of something.” I took the gun from her hands and put it away.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
I smiled and lied. “Yeah. It’s great. Do you want to hang out with me while I work on the truck before dinner, or do you want to go inside and chat with Mom?”
“I’m good right here.”
She was. She was perfect right here.
And she’d be even better if I could find Jamie’s killer.
“I’m melting.” Molly fanned her face.
“Me too. I just hope the cab has air conditioning.”
It was three days after I’d gotten my tattoo and admitted my feelings to Cole, and Molly and I were standing outside the restaurant. Sweat beaded on my temples as we stared down the street, hoping to see a sedan with its taxi light on.
“Oooh!” Molly stood on her tiptoes and looked down the street. “Here it comes. Okay, I’m going.”
With a huge smile, she jogged around her SUV, getting in and pulling onto the street the second the cab turned into the parking lot.
Okay, Jamie. Here goes.
I took a deep breath, then hustled into the backseat of the cab, throwing open the door and diving inside.
“Follow that car!” I shouted to the driver, pointing toward Molly’s Explorer.
“What?” The cabbie looked over his shoulder.
“Follow that car!” I wagged my finger and gave him my get going, buddy eyes.
“Look, lady—”
“Just go! Please!”
He frowned but hit the gas, jerking the cab into traffic and zooming up on Molly.
“She could at least go a little faster,” I muttered.
“What was that?” the driver asked into the rearview mirror.
“Nothing. Just please, follow that car.”
And he did. He followed Molly around the block and right back to the parking lot of the restaurant.
“Thank you, sir.”
“What? That’s it?”
I nodded and reached into my pocket for a twenty. “That’s it. Thank you.”
Handing him the cash, I got out of the cab and walked back inside the restaurant, where Molly was waiting.
“So?” she asked. “How was it?”
“My one-minute cab ride? Expensive.”
She laughed. “Well, at least that one was easy. Now you can cross it off the list.”
Through the windows, I kept my eyes on the cab as he pulled back onto the street. “Jamie would have thought that was hysterical. He probably would have videoed the entire thing to post on Facebook.”
“And he probably would have dressed up in a suit or something, pretending to be a secret agent.”
I nodded. “Yep. He would have mapped out this entire route for me to drive so he could follow me all over town and end up at this sketchy place. He would have planned this epic chase.”
“I think you’re right.”
Molly and I shared a sad smile. Our little adventure had been tame compared to what my husband would have planned, but I was still glad that we’d done it together.
“Okay. Back to work.” She turned and walked toward the counter.
“Yes, boss.” I’d taken three steps away from the door when it opened behind us. I glanced over my shoulder and stopped when I saw Cole.
“Hi.” My smile got bigger as my breath hitched.
It felt freeing to enjoy the hitch. To enjoy the acceleration of my heartbeat and the jitters I got when he was near. Because now that I’d laid it out there—now that I’d admitted to Cole my feelings—I’d given myself permission to enjoy it all.
What I’d told him was true. I’d thought a lot about him in the weeks after my trip to Kyle and Debbie’s ranch. And though a part of me had thought life would be easier if I just cut him out, I couldn’t do it.
During those two weeks, I’d found myself typing texts that I’d never sent. I’d made him special dinners that he’d never come to eat. And I’d realized life was too short to miss out on something . . . anything.
Because that was the point of Jamie’s list. Not missing out.
So I wasn’t going to miss this with Cole.
“Hi.” He studied my face as he caught up to my side.
“What?” I stopped smiling so I could run my tongue over my teeth. I couldn’t feel anything, but I kept my lips tight when I asked, “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
He smiled and shook his
head. “No. It’s just nice to see that smile. I haven’t gotten to see it much lately.”
My cheeks flushed as my smile came back. “That’s sweet.”
He nodded. “Sweet on you.”
“Aww!” Molly swooned as she appeared at my side. “Say something else like that. I’m living vicariously through your romance.”
“Ignore her,” I told Cole, grabbing Molly’s hand before she could start petting him. “Weren’t you just saying we needed to get back to work?”
“Slave driver,” she grumbled as I dragged her to the counter.
Behind us, Cole chuckled as he followed.
The restaurant was empty—hence our cab ride—but soon the takeout crowd would be coming in to pick up meals on their way home from work and the dinner rush would be in full swing. But for now, Molly, Helen and I were enjoying the lull and getting caught up on prep work.
“I’d better head to the office to pay some bills. Holler if you need help.” Molly filled a glass from the large pitcher of lemon water, then smiled at Cole as she disappeared into the kitchen.
“Hi, Cole.” Helen peeked out from under her eyelashes as she rolled silverware behind the counter.
“Hi, Helen.” He smiled at her and the pink in her cheeks turned bright red.
“Can I get you something?” I asked Cole.
He sank into the stool across from me—the one next to Randall’s, which Jimmy had claimed as his own—and sighed. “I’ve got a bitch of a headache. I thought some caffeine might help.”
“Sorry.” My hand reached for his temple but froze when I was inches away.
That’s what I’d always done whenever Jamie had gotten a headache. I’d rubbed his temples and combed his hair with my fingers until the pain had eased away.
My eyes wandered from my hand to Cole’s gaze. His eyes were waiting, quietly begging for my touch. With a racing heart, I placed my palm on the side of his face. My thumb was at his temple as my fingertips threaded into his hair and massaged his scalp.
Cole closed his eyes and relaxed his head into my hand. When he let out a sigh, the whole restaurant disappeared, leaving just me and Cole—my hand in his soft hair.
After a few minutes, he opened his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Better?”
He nodded. “Much.”
“Good.” I reluctantly pulled my hand from his face. “What kind of coffee do you want?”
“Surprise me.”
Smiling, I turned back to the espresso machine, getting to work on my personal headache killer—a triple-shot mocha with an extra pump of chocolate.
As I worked, a deep-seated contentment moved into my bones. Having Cole in the restaurant felt . . . right. In the two weeks that I’d tried to push him away, I hadn’t felt like this except for the times when Cole had come in for dinner. Those nights I’d been too “busy” to sit with him.
Who knew what would happen between us. Maybe Cole and I would end up just being friends. Maybe he’d not want kids or turn out to be a slob or transform into a Fantasy Football fanatic during football season. No one knew what we’d become.
But I wanted to find out.
And I trusted that he’d take care with my damaged heart.
His coffee done, I set it down, then went to the fridge to get him one of the banana cream pies I’d made earlier. “Here. Caffeine and sugar. You’ll be good as new before you leave.”
He grinned and dug right into the pie. “Damn, woman, you can cook.”
“I’m glad you came in. I need to ask you something.”
He stopped chewing. “Uh-oh.”
“It’s not bad and you don’t have to say yes. I can always ask Finn.”
He shook his head and swallowed. “No, I’ll do it.”
“You don’t know what it is.”
Cole shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does.”
He shrugged again. “Not really.”
“What if I ask you to buy me tampons?” Jamie had always refused to go down the feminine products aisle at the grocery store. I was sure Cole would be the same.
“Text me what you need and I’ll go to the store later.”
As he took another bite of pie, I tapped my fingers on the counter. “What if I ask you to take me to a foreign film?” I was sure he’d pass on that one. I’d never met a man who liked foreign films, not that I was crazy about them either.
“They aren’t my favorite, but as long as they have popcorn and Milk Duds, I’m in.”
“Okay. I’ve got one.” I gave him a smug grin. “What if I ask you to break the law?”
“Like pull a damn fire alarm?” He scoffed and pointed his spoon at my nose. “That’s one you’re not going to cross off the list, by the way. Not when you could end up with a huge fine or a year in jail.”
I frowned. I had no idea how I was going to finish that item from Jamie’s list, but clearly, I wouldn’t be asking Cole for help. Maybe I’d see if Jimmy had any ideas.
Cole swallowed another bite of pie. “Are you going to ever ask me your question or just play hypotheticals all afternoon? Because at some point, I do need to get back to the station, and it would happen a lot faster if you just realized that outside of breaking the law, I’ll say yes to anything you ask.”
I smiled and leaned closer. Molly would definitely have swooned over that one. “I have to go to a wedding on Saturday. My freshman roommate is getting married and I’d like to go.” I hadn’t seen her in a few years but she was about the only friend from my past that didn’t treat me differently because my husband had been murdered. “Would you go with me?”
Cole looked up from his pie. “Like a date?”
Date.
Maybe that word wasn’t so scary, after all.
“Yes. Like a date.”
“You look,” Cole swallowed, “stunning.”
“Thanks.” I smoothed down the skirt of my forest-green dress. It had a simple design but was fitted down the bodice to my hips and knees. I hadn’t worn this dress in years, but it still fit perfectly and gave me the illusion of curves and cleavage.
I looked up from my patent nude heels, letting my eyes linger on Cole. “Not so bad yourself, Detective.”
He was wearing a white button-down shirt tucked into some charcoal slacks. The leather belt cinched at his narrow waist accentuated his broad shoulders. And his legs looked long—really long—and his thighs thicker than they did in jeans.
I was shamelessly staring at his bulging quads when he cleared his throat. “Ready to go?”
I nodded, hoping that the heat in my cheeks wasn’t too red, and stepped down off the porch. “This is kind of weird, having you here again.” Tonight was the first time Cole had ever picked me up from home instead of the restaurant.
“Yeah.” He held out his hand but didn’t say anything else about that night.
When I slipped my hand in his, the nerves in my stomach settled the instant we touched.
An hour later, we were squished together in a wooden pew at the church. At the altar, my friend was saying her vows to a man who looked at her like she was the only person in the sanctuary.
I’d been fighting the burn and swelling in my throat since the moment she walked down the aisle. The moment she said I do, I lost the fight and tears flooded my eyes.
I’d never cried at a wedding before. Never. Not even my own.
Maybe it was because this was the first wedding I’d been to since Jamie had died. Maybe it was because the traditional vows that they’d exchanged were exactly the same ones I’d said to Jamie. Maybe I was just becoming more sentimental. Whatever the reason, I was about to lose it completely.
Breathe. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. But no matter how many times I told myself not to cry, I did it anyway. A steady stream of tears poured over my lower lids and I swiped furiously so they wouldn’t smudge my makeup. I sniffled as I wiped my hands on my dress, drying them so I could go back to my face. Just as I lifted them up for the second time, Cole
took one between his own.
I looked up through blurry eyes as he placed a handkerchief into my hand.
“Mom always cries at weddings,” he whispered with a smile.
Cole didn’t say don’t cry. He didn’t care if I lost it now and then. He just gave me some extra steel for my spine in the form of a plain white hankie.
I hiccupped a laugh, taking the cloth from his hands to blot my eyes dry. Then, leaning into Cole’s side, I clutched the handkerchief and used it to keep my mascara from running as the ceremony concluded and the guests stood to clap for the newly married couple.
“She looks beautiful,” I said as my friend and her husband walked by our row.
Cole’s hand came to the small of my back as he inched closer. “So do you.”
I was a wreck. I didn’t need a mirror to know that my fair skin was splotchy from crying and my eyes were as red as my hair. But my heart still swelled with Cole’s compliment and I smiled at him over my shoulder. “Thank you.”
He lifted his hand, using his thumb to wipe a smudge on my cheek. “Want to hear a secret?”
I nodded.
He leaned down farther, pressing his warm chest against my back. His minty, cool breath feathered against my cheek as he whispered, “The guy in front of you has his fly undone.”
I blurted a laugh, though it came out more like a snort, and I turned, trying to nonchalantly check out my neighbor’s fly. Sure enough, it was undone. The blue tails of his tucked-in shirt were peeking out of his pants.
I looked back over my shoulder to a grinning Cole. With one silly joke, he’d made everything better. Jamie had always done that for me—given me brevity. Except where Jamie had always thought jokes were appropriate, Cole saved them for when the time was right.
As we slowly shuffled into the receiving line, the differences between Cole and Jamie filtered through my mind. I’d been dutifully trying not to compare the two, mostly because there wasn’t any point—this wasn’t a competition—but also because it sparked doubts about the relationship I’d had with Jamie.
He’d always been so relaxed, cavalier at times, which had driven me crazy. I’d been wondering lately how our relationship would have changed if we’d been given time. Would his constant jokes have gotten old? Would he have let go of some of his big-kid tendencies and matured? I’d always been the grown-up in our relationship. Would I have gotten sick of always having to be the adult?
