I sighed, leaning away from his tempting mouth. “Come on.”
He reached into his back pocket. “Hold on.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “Devlin.”
His body didn’t stiffen, but somehow I felt him withdraw even though I was still pressed against him. “Yep. I’ll be right down.” He ended the call and exhaled, the shift in him immediate.
“Oh man,” I said softly. What was happening with the ATF now?
He grinned. “I have to go down to work. We just got some news on a different case.”
“What case?” I asked automatically.
He kissed the tip of my nose, the gesture almost enough to distract me. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Oh, right.” I tried to sound casual, but it didn’t stop my brain from spinning.
Aiden stood and gently set me back on the sofa before crossing to the keypad to arm the alarm.
“When do you think you’ll be back?” I asked, looking around, suddenly feeling the space of the room without him in it.
“Only a couple hours. I promise.”
I tried not to sigh. Usually when Aiden went back to the office this late, it meant one of his cases had heated up and he was about to leave town again. He worked for a specialty unit within the ATF—one of the few teams based outside the main city offices. It was an experimental setup, and I really hoped it was working. I didn’t want to lose him to Los Angeles.
“All right,” I murmured, my stomach growling. “Do we still have huckleberry pie?”
He ducked his head as he moved toward the door.
Amusement battled with disappointment inside me. I wanted pie. “Did you eat all the pie?”
He shrugged, his shoulders seriously broad in that dark shirt. “Not all at one time.”
“There’d better be ice cream left,” I warned.
“There is.” He looked over his shoulder and winked. “I only ate the pie.”
I rolled my eyes as he slipped out the door and disappeared into the rain. The sound of the alarm arming filled the quiet. He always made sure I was safe. I smiled and wandered into the kitchen, hoping there was enough ice cream to make it interesting. The cabin felt emptier without him in it, with the kind of quiet that settled under my skin.
My phone dinged. I swiped it up and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Tessa.” My sister’s voice came across the line low and tight.
“Tess?” I stopped mid-step. “What’s wrong?”
She cleared her throat. “Nana O’Shea called me and asked if I’d open early for her tomorrow morning—for breakfast.” Tessa owned two restaurants, one of them in Silverville.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Why?”
“She and Nonna Albertini want to meet privately.”
What in all that was holy? I fought the very real urge to cross myself. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know. Please tell me you’ll be there.”
What was happening? “Oh, you bet I’ll be there,” I said quickly, my mind absolutely spinning. “Who else knows about this?”
“Only us. I don’t think we should tell anybody else yet.”
I chewed my lip. “All right. What time are you opening? You normally don’t open until six.”
