Finn leaned his shoulder against the wall.‘Please tell me you got something, babe?’
Bree’s expression flickered, but she still reached up and kissed his cheek.‘Look here, lollipop, you can’t call me that anymore.’Then she wrinkled her nose.‘What the hell, Finn?’She grabbed his chin, tilting his face to hers.‘You reek worse than a brewery on a bad batching day.’
‘Leave off,’ Finn grumbled, yanking his head back.‘You’re not my wife anymore.’
‘Want me to embroider that on a pillow for you?And then another one that saysWe’re not perfect, but we’re family!’Bree’s glare softened before flicking towards Amara.‘Oh, hello.Who are you?’
‘Constable Amara Montrose.’She thrust out her hand like a robot at a business meeting.
‘Montrose?You’re the one Porter’s been—’ Bree cut herself off, clearing her throat, with her eyes all sparkly, and the smile somewhat devious.‘Bree Riggs.’
Amara could feel the strength of Bree’s hand and the calluses on her fingers as they shook.‘Not Wilde?’
‘Was.Now it’s Riggs.’
For just a second, Finn’s eyes flared as fast as it took him to wipe a rough hand over his mouth and nose.
Porter gave Bree a friendly peck on her cheek.‘Good to see you, Bree.’
‘You do remember the way to the station, right?’
‘I’ve just been busy.’
‘Me too, ironing the walls and mopping the grass.’She flashed a quick grin, her eye sparkly, firing off one-liners the way a person orders a meal through the drive thru.‘But I bring sausage rolls and cupcakes.We can all eat while we talk.But you,’ she said, passing a large takeaway coffee cup to Finn, ‘can take that.’
‘There’s my favourite redhead.’Craig pushed his way through the others to scoop up Bree into a quick hug.‘How’s the baby doing?’
Finn tensed with his hand flexed at his side.
‘Well, now we know what’s triggered the binge drinking,’ Porter muttered to Amara, just under his breath.
But Amara didn’t get it.What was Finn worried about?He’d divorced Bree and she’d remarried.
Although, as she watched Bree get the royal welcome from everyone—a kiss on the cheek, a quick teasing greeting, some talk about the pregnancy, before she turned and scooped up the box of food—Amara noted there was no wedding ring on Bree’s finger.
‘Right, where’s the Batcave?I bring news.’
‘Batcave?’Amara expected Finn to say something to protect the Stock Squad’s office.
‘Let me take that for you.’Stone swooped in, beating Porter to the food.It wasn’t the first time those two had fought for the last sandwich, scone, or cake crumb with their station’s morning teas.
‘I’ll grab the napkins and plates.’Amara opened the cupboards in the small kitchenette to grab supplies then followed the party back to their office—the Batcave.Great, she could see that nickname sticking.
Although, she had heard Bree call Stone—Pebbles?Hmm…
Inside, everyone crowded around the large round table that could easily fit a dozen people.Finn’s vast collection of paper maps was shoved aside and in its place were large cake boxes holding an assortment of mini meat pies, pasties, sausage rolls, and cupcakes.
Finn hovered, helping Bree into her seat like a queen.‘Do you need a drink?Something else?A cushion?Cookies?’
Amara had never seen her boss so attentive, and so human like this.
Bree dragged her laptop out of her sack-like leather bag.‘I’m good.I’ll need the toilet shortly.This pregnancy is already playing havoc with my bladder.’Bree rubbed her hand over her belly, then shot Finn a warning glare.‘But first, this.Lecture second.’
Finn groaned as he scrubbed his hands over his face, before plonking heavily into the chair beside Bree.
‘Can I show you guys what I have on that?’Bree pointed to the wide screen that took up the wall.
‘Amara knows how.’Stone—usually the first to taunt her—gave Amara an encouraging nod, and didn’t call her Duchess, either.
