Did he even remember that moment in the kitchen?
Jonah had made trays of cookies for an assignment the night before, so she stacked a dozen on a paper plate and covered it with plastic for Connor.
After her last meeting, which felt interminable, Vivien drove to Peter’s rental in Crystal Beach. She’d been there once with Eli before Peter had moved here, to wait for a refrigerator delivery.
She’d managed to check out the house then, which was right off Highway 98 in a tree-lined neighborhood with sweet beach bungalows wrapped in white picket fences.
Pulling up to the address, a thrill shot through her right down to her toes when she saw a new muscular SUV in the driveway with sheriff’s plates…right next to a little white sedan she assumed was Holly’s, since Connor’s vehicle was a total loss.
Pushing any and all thrills to the side, she climbed out, snagged the cookies, and walked to the front door, surprisingly nervous about the drop-in.
After knocking, footsteps came fast from the other side.
Please let it be him.
The door swung open and Holly stood, small and mighty, smiling up at Vivien. “Well, hello, there,” she said. “Nice to see you again, Vivien.”
“Hi,” Vivien said, matching her smile, lifting the covered plate of cookies. “I wanted to check on Connor and bring him a little get-well treat. How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing good,” Holly said with relief in her voice. “He’s sleeping right now. The doctor said rest is the big thing. He’s sore, but he’s…he’s good.”
“That’s wonderful.” Vivien let out a breath. “I’m so glad.”
Holly opened the door wider. “Come in. You want coffee or iced tea? I have snacks and, whoa.” She looked at the cookies. “Did you make these?”
“No, we have a budding chef in the house.”
“Oh, these look delicious. And dangerous. You know, my boy is in the house, so of course I’m overstuffing the pantry. You’d think I have toddlers again but I’m the one eating Skittles. Please.”
Vivien stepped inside, noticing the living room furniture felt like it had come from another house, just a little off for this space. The bookshelves, too, looked like they’d been hijacked from their home, but a giant TV had found a wall it loved.
There were pillows on the couch like someone had slept sitting up, with a baseball cap on the armrest and a pair of very large sneakers kicked under the coffee table.
“Excuse the mess,” Holly said—again, as if she lived here.
“I imagine Connor’s made that sofa home since he got here,” Vivien replied.
“Barely moves. Watches hundred year old movies in black and white until I want to scream. But I told him he had to sleep in bed. It’s not good for his arm to roll around on that sofa, so he did just go in the back an hour ago. Like I said, you think they’re all grown up and turns out they’re really babies in big men’s clothing.”
Oh, yeah, talkative. Unless she was just nervous around Vivien. Had Peter told her?—
“Is that Vivien?” Peter’s voice came from where they headed, into an open concept family room and kitchen combination. A wall of sliding glass doors led out to a pool and patio.
Peter, seated at the eat-in table with a laptop open and glasses perched on his nose, stood to greet her. His expression shifted to an easy smile with a glimmer in his dark eyes that warmed her.
“Hey,” he said, moving as if he was about to reach for a hug, then thought better of it.
“Hey.” Vivien stepped closer, setting her bag down on the table and glancing at the computer. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all. I’m just going over some open case files and doing some work from home. How are you, Viv?” He took off the readers as if he wanted to get an unobstructed look at her.
“I’m good,” she said, aware that Holly was moving around the kitchen with a surprising amount of familiarity.
“Coffee, Vivien?” the other woman asked. “Or something cold?”
“Water would be great, Holly, thank you.”
“Please have a seat,” Holly said cheerfully. “Pete, do you want a refill?”
