That’s what makes him Loco ;)
She was by her phone, so why the hell was she taking so long?
Heading back to the restaurant. Need to help Mom. Only a couple of hours before we open.Want me to wait?
No, you go ahead. I’ll meet you there.
We had been driving to work together for weeks, which made us look better to the public, and I liked knowing she wasn’t weaving through traffic on her motorcycle. But her brushing me off like this only confirmed what I already suspected.
I exhaled sharply and pocketed my phone. “C’mon, Loco. Time to go inside, buddy. Mommy will have to feed you when she gets home.”
Am I seriously talking to a dog?
Loco stared up at me, “Yeah, I need a guy’s night,” I muttered.
I was ten minutes down the road when I realized I’d left my wallet. Normally, I’d say screw it, but these Ozark cops loved an excuse to pull me over, and I wasn’t in the mood for a ticket. When I pulled back up to the house, my pulse kicked up a notch. Mel’s motorcycle was in the driveway. She had told me she’d be a while. Yet here she was, back the second I left. I stepped inside, immediately noticing the bathroom light on. My suspicion tightened into a knot in my gut. I rounded the corner and saw her standing at the sink, back turned to me.
“Hey,” I said.
She jolted violently, sucking in a sharp breath before spinning to face me. “Shit, Nick! You scared the hell out of me.” Her eyes were wide—too wide.
I smirked. “Sorry. You left the door open, so I figured you weren’t busy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Gross.”
“Some married couples are comfortable enough to do that in front of each other.”
“First of all, disgusting. Second, I don’t poop. I shit rainbows.”
I huffed a laugh, but something was still off. Normally, she’d correct me with fake marriage, yet she let it slide. “I forgot my wallet,” I said, watching her closely. “Didn’t feel like testing my luck with the cops today.”
She gave a quick nod. “Oh. Okay.”
I leaned against the doorway. “You sure you don’t want to rideup with me? I don’t mind waiting.” My gaze flickered down her body—she’d been running more, and damn, it showed. “Maybe we can make a pit stop along the way.” I waggled my eyebrows.
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “No, I’m hopping in the shower. You go ahead.”
My gaze dropped to her hand, tucked behind her back.
“What’s that?” I asked, tilting my chin toward it.
Her body stiffened. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb, Melanie. Behind your back.”
She hesitated. “It’s, uh… tampons.”
Bullshit.
I took a step forward. “Look, I know all about relapsing. If you’re drinking again, I’d rather you be honest with me now than show up at the restaurant high or drunk. You know I don’t put up with that shit.”
“I’m not drinking.” Her voice sharpened.
“Then show me what’s behind your back.”
“No,” she bites back.
My jaw clenched. “So you expect me to believe you?”
