“Aside from the fact that it would take me three times as long as the Metro-North—and that’s on a good day without accidents or construction—the tolls are absolutely absurd. The GW Bridge alone is, like, fifteen bucks now, and that’s one way. Then you’ve got parking, which is what, fifty dollars minimum for anything decent? And don’t even get me started on the stress of navigating Manhattan traffic, where everyone drives like they have a death wish. I’d rather take the train, read a book, and arrive with my sanity intact, thank you very much.”
A wince flashed over his face so quickly that I wondered if I had imagined it. “Yet half the cars here aren’t cabs, so clearly some people are still driving,” he then countered.
“And how many of those are either rideshare drivers or private hires?”
He shrugged. “Still leaves people who don’t mind driving here, apparently.”
“Well, I’m not one of them, so no, I didn’t drive. I drove down to Poughkeepsie and took the Metro-North.”
His face lit up. “So youdiddrive.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, to Poughkeepsie. Not to the city.”
“Semantics.”
Yes, but important ones in this case. I sighed. “It doesn’t really matter. Why did you ask?”
“Because I’d like to drive and needed to know if you had a car or not.”
“You’ll take a squad car then?” Wasn’t that what those were called?
He shook his head. “I’ll be undercover, remember?”
Oh right. Duh.
“We’ll take my car.”
“Okay.”
“Follow me,” he said, and I did just that.
We left the interrogation room and made our way through the precinct, past desks cluttered with case files and cops who barely glanced up from their paperwork. Eamon nodded to a few officers as we passed, and I kept my eyes focused on his back like a light tower on a dark and stormy sea. The elevator ride down to the parking garage was awkwardly quiet, filled only with the mechanical hum and my growing nervousness about what came next.
The garage was dimly lit and smelled like exhaust and concrete, filled with the mix of squad cars and personal vehicles I’d expected. What I hadn’t expected was for Eamon to stop next to a sleek black BMW that looked like itcost more than I’d made in the last ten years. “That’s your car?”
He beamed. “Isn’t she pretty?”
She was, but how did a detective afford a car like that? Oh right. Independently wealthy. But it didn’t exactly blend in. “You use that for work?”
He blinked. “No, no, I have a…a very boring Subaru for that.”
Two cars? Damn, I could barely afford the payments on one car—and mine was a ten-year-old Toyota. I also had the van, of course, but that was for business only.
He opened the passenger door for me like a gentleman, and I gave him an approving nod as I slid onto the leather seats. He was already taking on the role of my boyfriend.
The interior was all black leather and polished wood trim, with a dashboard that looked like it belonged in a spaceship rather than a car. Everything gleamed—the chrome accents, the pristine center console, even the floor mats looked like they’d never seen a speck of dirt. It smelled expensive too, that mixture of leather conditioner and whatever they used to make luxury cars smell like money.
When Eamon’s phone connected to the car, he set the navigation for my address…which I hadn’t given him. “How’d you find my address?”
He shot me a quick look sideways as he started the car, the engine purring like a big feline. “That was an easy search, knowing you’re a wedding baker in Charming.”
Right. That made sense, though I would’ve expected that to provide the address for Sweet Relief. But I suppose my home address would be easy enough to find after that. He was a cop, after all.
As soon as we left the parking garage of the precinct, we got stuck in heavy traffic. I checked my watch.Five on the dot. Well, that was perfect timing, wasn’t it? We’d get to experience the full force of rush hour in the city. I leaned back in my seat, and a huge yawn made my jaw pop. God, I was exhausted. I’d been up since three, and I was about to crash hard.
“You can put your seat back with the buttons on the right,” Eamon said.
“Sorry.” As if on cue, I yawned again. “It’s been a long day.”
