“We’d only call you in from time to time. To give us your viewpoint.”
Life was strange. He’d once used his knowledge of cars, criminals, and computers to commit crimes. Now he was being invitedto use the same knowledge to solve crimes. “I might be willing to help out. As you said, from time to time.”
“Excellent.” Romano extended his hand and Luke shook it. “I’ll be in touch.”
Across town, Finley received a text from Luke saying he was on his way. She hurried to the foyer of the rehab center in time to watch his truck arrive out front.
He walked toward the entrance carrying a white box. The scruff on his cheeks was thick today, his hair touseled. He wore a pair of jeans she loved with a light brown henley and his black jacket.
Her heart executed a jubilant spin-and-swoon maneuver. Since she’d woken from the coma, he’d never arrived this late in the day before. He was certainly entitled to time away, and she’d already determined that she wouldn’t pry. But now that she was seeing him, it became clear that refusing to pry was going to require effort.
Immediately, she took hold of his hand and led him toward the door to the garden. “Meadow and Bridget just texted to say they’re about to stop by, so we don’t have much time alone.”
“When they get here, I’ll leave to give you guys privacy.”
He did that a lot, she’d noticed. She was fortunate to have a large number of visitors. But when others came by, Luke often slid out. In the case of Meadow, it was, she suspected, a dual motivation. One, he didn’t want to intrude. Two, he could only take Meadow in small doses.
“I don’t want privacy from you,” she said. “I want privacy with you.”
She drew him toward the two-seater wooden swing positioned beneath the shade of a sugarberry tree.
When they reached it, he handed her the white box. “Cinnamon rolls.”
“Thank you.” She peeked inside. Gooey delicious sweetnessstared back. It was a testament to Luke’s appeal that she was far more interested in him than the cinnamon rolls in this moment. She placed the box on the grass, then practically pushed him into the wooden swing.
He landed with a soft “Oof.”
She climbed onto his lap. Stretching her legs along the wooden seat, she sat upright, placed her palms on his shoulders, and studied him. “Busy day?” she asked lightly.
“Yes, because . . .” Dramatic pause. His eyes glittered in a way that slayed her.
“Yes?” she prompted.
“Today, the Confederate gold was recovered.”
Her jaw sagged open. “What!”
“One hour ago, Ken Vance was arrested for attempted murder and armed robbery. Dennis and Jeff Vance were arrested for armed robbery.”
She saw it then, the change in Luke. The dark cloud had gone. His forehead was smoother, his posture lighter.Praise God.
“You did this,” she said.
“I helped.”
She kissed him. Grinned at him.
“Happy?” he asked.
“I’ve been happy ever since the night we made out after watchingThe Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants—”
“I want to point out thatThe Sisterhood of the Traveling Pantshad nothing to do with why we made out.”
“Now, today, the Vance brothers have been arrested and you’re here with cinnamon rolls. So I’m tremendously happy. Are you happy?”
“Very.”
“Tell me everything.”
