"Yeah?"
"That's the face."
"What face?"
"The face that explains the humming and the love cookies and the aggressive cheerfulness." He took a long sip of coffee. "You're in love."
It wasn't a question.
"Maybe," I said.
"Definitely." Kellen sat back down, studying me like I was a particularly interesting specimen. "How long?"
"How long what?"
"How long have you been in love with her?"
"I didn't say it was a her."
Kellen gave me a look that could have curdled milk. "Dalton."
"Okay, fine. It's a her. And I don't know how long. It's new."
"Newlove." Kellen nodded sagely. "That explains it. You're in the honeymoon phase. Everything's perfect, the sun shines brighter, the birds sing sweeter, and you make cookies with love as an ingredient."
"You sound like you speak from experience."
"I do." He took a sip of his coffee. "Been married to her for seventeen years. Couldn't be happier."
I stared at him, trying to reconcile this information with the man who spoke in monotone, moved like he was underwater, and treated every shift like a personal affront to his existence was... happily married?
"Really?"
"Really." His expression didn't change one bit. "Best thing that ever happened to me. She thinks I'm funny."
"You're... funny?"
"Hilarious." Still completely deadpan. "She laughs at everything I say. She's obviously got great taste."
I was trying to process this when he stood up, still moving with the enthusiasm of a sloth on sedatives.
"Point is, Dalton, enjoy it. The honeymoon phase doesn't last forever, but if you're lucky, what comes after is even better."
He walked away before I could respond, leaving me sitting there with a strange mix of happiness and something that might have been worry.
But then my phone buzzed again — Izzy sending me a picture of her truck's dashboard with the radio playing our song (we didn't have a song, but apparently we did now) — and the worry disappeared. Everything was perfect. Everything was going to stay perfect.
I was sure of it.
chapter
nineteen
The first signsomething was off came when Martinez emerged from the shower bay, hair still dripping, looking genuinely baffled.
"L.T.," he called out, "did we get a delivery I missed?"
"What kind of delivery?" I asked, looking up from the apparatus checks.
