I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off.
“Something that didn’t involve batteries or cuffs. Something thoughtful.”
The compass flashed through my head. Truth was, I’d never given anyone a gift that thoughtful. And I didn’t like where this conversation was going.
“I’m just saying,” she continued. “Don’t write off every woman because of a few mistakes your mom made. Ones, that, if I had to guess, she’s spent the last two decades regretting.”
“My mom doesnotregret leaving my dad.”
“Maybe not, but based on her repeated calls and gifts, she regrets the dissolution of her relationship with her sons. Family’s important, no matter how flawed they are. There’s aloyalty with blood. It’s not something to discount.” She turned fully to me. “Do you write off everyone for their mistakes?”
“Depends on the severity of the mistake.”
“Would you write me off?”
I leaned back on my elbows, suddenly needing distance for some reason. My eyes locked on hers, assessing, assessing, assessing.
“I don’t know, Sunny. I don’t know. To be honest, I feel like I don’t know much of anything lately.”
She stared at me a moment, then shifted her gaze to the treetops, swaying in the warm breeze.
A heavy moment passed between us.
“Well, on that note, let’s finish up.” She said. “I should get Brutus to his appointment.”
Fifteen minutes later, Max hopped into the back of my Jeep while I helped Sunny lift Brute into the cab of her truck.
“Let me know what the vet says.” I said—and meant it.
“I will.”
“You good?” I asked, my eyes squinting.
A quick dip of her chin.
“About everything?”
Her eyes dropped to my lips, then trailed back up to my eyes. “I hope so,” she whispered.
“Me, too,” I whispered back. I inched closer and trailed my fingertip along her jawline. “Take Brute to the vet, then straight back to the bungalow. I’ve got an appointment but will be home in a bit.”
Home.
She nodded, her face tilting into my hand, nestling against my palm. My heart stuttered.
“I’m sorry I can’t spend the day with you,” I said, my pulse suddenly racing. With want—need.
“It’s okay. I’d rather you be doing exactly what you’re doing.”
And then what? I wondered. What was going to happen when I caught Kenzo Rees, this crazy mystery third person, and closed the case on Sunny Harper? We’d just go our separate ways? The feeling had my gut clenching.
Her gaze flicked past my shoulder, toward the station. I followed it instinctively, locking onto the silhouettes behind the glass—one tall and built like a brick wall, the other shorter, rounder, and balding. Colson and Chief McCord. No doubt. Tanya was probably pressed to the next window, already drafting a group text with every romantic exaggeration she could imagine.
Of course they were watching.
I turned back to Sunny. And for once, I didn’t give a damn who saw.
Screw the whispers. Screw the rules. Screw the long list of reasons I’d told myself to keep my distance.
