His strong mouth twitched, and that humorous glint sparked at her retort.
She felt...no, she still couldn't name it.
"Could have fooled me a few months ago. But glad to see you and your friends haven't needed the Salem police in a while. Though ya'll did make up half of our workload."
She narrowed her eyes at his taunt. He was taunting her.
Movement drew both of their attention to Jen, who was holding two plates of black chocolate cake.
"Hey, Chief. How's the SPD?"
He nodded politely at Jen and replied, "Slow," before sliding a knowing look down at Tilly, who again narrowed her eyes at him. He might have been smirking, though his well-kept mustache held it in secret. He tipped his head at them. "See you around." And then his long legs took him to the counter for what Tilly imagined would be the strongest coffee in the world to move anything in this rock of a man.
Jen sat back down, sliding a plate in front of Tilly, giving the Chief a thoughtful look as she took her first bite of cake.
"Decided not to share?" Tilly asked, pointing to their two separate pieces of cake.
"Today seemed like a no-sharing cake kind of day."
Tilly couldn't agree more. Around a bite of the chocolate perfection, she asked Jen, "What do you think that man is ordering?"
"Coffee strong enough to wake the dead," she replied with a smirk. Then Jen leaned in so far that there was little space on the small cafe table between them and whispered, "Think he adds blood to his coffee?"
Jen was the only one she had talked to about him. Ever since Bess told them about the night he saved her, they'd chatted andthrown around theories as a group, but she'd never offered much of her thoughts. Except with Jen.
"It would give a new meaning to red eye," she replied cheekily, and Jen laughed, pointing her fork at her.
"Shhhh. He could have super hearing."
"Ohmygod, you're right. That sounds like a bat thing," Tilly's smile felt good and stretched.
"Okay, spill. What is going on, friend?"
So, Tilly told her. They ate the decadent dark chocolate cake while Jen gave her space to feel everything. Later, she would problem solve, but for now, she could throw everything out there; multifaceted dice rolling around the table between two hearts who understood what was needed.
5. What Now?
Jen invited Tilly along for her day of getting ready to open her storefront. And Tilly had needed the distraction. After an awkward distribution of tasks between Jen, herself and Isla (who seemed put off that Tilly would be joining the set-up), she was now balancing two boxes of fliers, a bag full of gold paper plates, napkins, and cups which had the logo of Jen's business and a balloon arch of gold, red and black.
She was wrestling the arch into Jen's SUV, trying to keep the balloons from popping, as the sound of thin rubber being rubbed and handled mixed with her whispered curses when someone's voice interrupted.
"I think you're supposed to assemble the arch at the destination."
Her head popped up from where she had been bending to contort the arch as carefully as she could into the vehicle. With her glasses askew, hair falling from its bun in black and green fragments against her sweaty face, she frowned when she saw afamiliar face. When she registered how familiar, she felt a dip in her stomach.
"Ronnie," she said, trying to keep her voice from giving away any particular emotion, of which there were many rioting through her at a rapid pace.
He smiled in that way that was lopsided and she had once found charming. Until months of his charm and seduction had led her off a cliff dive into nothing.
"Hey, Til," he said, the words lazy and knowing. "You doing ok? You're sweating and your hair is everywhere." He squinted his blue eyes, zeroing in on her face. "Is your hair green?"
"I," she pushed some of the strands off of her sweaty face, and smiled self-consciously. "Yeah. I'm helping a friend with something."
"Tilly. Always helping." His smile was wide, but his words held a note of something like unkind joking. He had a way about him that sometimes made her wonder if he wasn't always just short of making fun of her. But then, he had been interested in her and had she mentioned charming?
"Yeah, well," she shifted her feet. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Amsterdam or Morocco."
"Oh, I've been all over. It's been a hell of a year since I left."
