It was a joke. I’m not the danger magnet, Catrina is.
I log off the computer, dress for a walk, and meet Suds in the stairwell. Hair wet, covered in sweat, he lifts his eyes to mine. Gone is the anger, replaced by something much scarier, resolve.
I take his hand, pull him up the stairs, and into our kitchen. Because he doesn’t say anything, I start us off. “You still mad?”
“Sugar, we got to figure this out. Someday, I may not be there to rescue you.”
Why are we having this conversation again?“I don’t need you to. I’m a former FBI ag-”
“Desk jockey.” He glares, crosses his arms, and braces his legs.
I do the same, albeit not as good. “When have I ever needed you to save me? Besides today, which we have already established, was not my doing.”
“Okay, how about the time you got stuck in the snowstorm?”
“I was fine. I was just waiting for morning.” I recall almost freezing to death and shiver.
“Dubai?”
“Okay, you got me there.” I want to mention my amazing jump into the pool from the second story, but think better of it.
“Congressman Bannerman?” Suds holds up a third finger which I curl back down.
“That’s two, and again, I am totally not responsible.”
He holds up a fourth finger. “In the cabin in the woods.”
“How about the time I climbed up the porch, leaned through the window, and shot the guy holding the knife. If I had listened to you and stayed put, that poor girl would be dead.”
Suds frowns. “You don’t sense danger a-comin’ and never will.”
I turn the tables and jut out my chin. “What about you? You missed the whole ruse with the Taser.”
“Exactly. Someday I am going to slip up. I ain’t perfect and you could d-die.” When his voice breaks and his eyes tear, mine do too.
Nose to nose, I cup his rough cheeks. “Honey, no way. We’re good together and all the things we just mentioned proves it. I promise to keep taking self-defense classes and keep up with my target practice as soon as the range reopens. With one gun in my purse and one in my holster, no one can get the drop on me.”
When he shakes his head sadly, I can’t believe it’s over. “Please, Suds, don’t leave me.”
“Leave? Go where?” Eyes wide, tiny wrinkles appear in his forehead, and his mouth drops open.
“Away… From me.”What will I do without him? How will I go on? Dammit I love him so, so much.
“You’re my wife and for better or for worse, you’re stuck with me. I ain’t going nowhere. Are you?” He kisses away my tears.
“But Suds and Sam…” I sob. The virus, the serial killer, everything is suddenly too, too much.
“The detective agency isn’t us. It’s our job.” Stepping forward, he opens his arms.
When my cheek hits his chest, my hands clasp behind his back. “What if I like being a dick?”
“What if I don’t?” Firm hands grasp my shoulders and he pulls me away to meet my gaze.
“So that’s it? The end of Suds and Sam?” Water blurs my vision and drips down my face.
Lifting the hem of his shirt, he gently wipes my cheek. “I’m not sayin’ one way or t’other. We need to talk about what cases we’re gonna take on. For once, try to see it from my perspective. I don’t want to lose you, either.”
He kisses me so soundly, my brain goes numb. Later, I’ll show him the shitload of emails from police departments wanting our help with cold cases. Right now, we need to make love.
