While waiting for someone to answer the door, he shifted the six-pack of root beer and the two white plastic bags in his hands. Chinese takeout—too much of it, on purpose. Tess had called at lunch, just like she said she would, and they’d made dinner plans. Sincethen, he’d been counting down the hours between reports, interviews, and the kind of bureaucratic hell that made a man rethink his career.
Seeing her at the end of the day? Yeah. He could get used to that.
Too easily.
The door opened, and there she was. Her hair was down, and she wore a soft T-shirt and sweatpants—no scrubs, lab coat, latex gloves, and mask. Just Tess. Warm and real, and standing close enough that he caught the faint scent of her shampoo—barely there, but enough to tilt something in him off balance.
Her smile pulled at him, subtle but sure, like a thread tugging at his heart.
“Dinner delivery,” he said, stepping inside when she moved back. He set the bags on the dining table. “I remembered you and Andy both like Chinese food. Although I exercised excellent judgment and bought way too much since I didn’t know exactly what you liked.” His brow furrowed. “I guess I should’ve asked, huh?”
She arched a brow, amused. “There’s very little my brother won’t eat, and I already told you, I’m not picky either. As for the leftovers, I’ll never complain about that. You can take some for lunch tomorrow, and whatever I don’t eat, Andy will.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, I should’ve texted you earlier. He decided to go to the movies with some friends, so it’s just us for dinner.”
“No complaints from me.” He grinned and startedunpacking their meal—chicken lo mein, barbecue ribs, pepper steak, steamed dumplings, pork fried rice, and shrimp rolls. A few handfuls of sauce and mustard packets, fortune cookies, and five wooden chopstick sets were added to the mix. Yeah, he’d definitely gotten too much food even if Andy had been home.
While he opened the containers, Tess brought over plates, utensils, and glasses of ice without asking what was needed, like they’d done this a hundred times instead of... whatever single-digit number they were on.
That realization hit him harder than he expected—quiet, domestic, and comfortable. And how much he liked it was... dangerous, maybe. He didn’t know how to do long-term relationships, and with every day that passed, he wanted one with Tess more and more. But what if he fucked it up somehow?
Take it day by day. And no matter how much you know that your brothers will mess with you, ask them and Uncle Dan for advice. Why? Because Tess is worth it.
Filling an empty napkin holder on the table, she glanced at him. “So, how was your day?”
“No one shot at me, so I guess it was good.”
When she frowned at him, he knew that had been the absolute worst thing he could’ve said. “Sorry. Bad joke. My day was fine. How was yours?”
They sat, and she grabbed a shrimp roll. “Productive. We only had two autopsies this morning, so therest of the day was filled with glamorous stuff like disinfecting tables and restocking supplies.”
He chuckled, then glanced at her. For some reason, it seemed like she’d purposely left something out. “And?”
She hesitated, her thumb brushing the edge of her napkin. “It’s probably nothing,” she said. “Just... I noticed a black Escalade a few times over the last several days.”
Brian stilled. “Where?”
“Across from work today.” She exhaled through her nose, like she didn’t love admitting this. “And… Sunday, I saw it in town and again driving by the house. I don’t know. I wasn’t exactly taking notes. Today, it caught my eye, and I got the feeling it was the same one. Maybe I’m just imagining things. Forget about it. As I said, it’s probably nothing.”
He watched as she dumped some fried rice onto her plate, the way her shoulders tightened, then eased—as if she was still wondering if mentioning it was a stupid idea.
“Tess,” he said quietly, “you don’t need to talk yourself out of telling me something.”
“I just don’t want to sound paranoid.” Her mouth curved in a wry, embarrassed line. “For all I know, it was three different Escalades, and I’m connecting dots that aren’t there.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But maybe not.” He kept his tone even, though something low and uneasy stirredbeneath his ribs. From what he’d learned about Tess over the past few weeks, she wasn’t dramatic or easily rattled. If the incident with the tree falling on her house proved anything, it was that. “If something feels off, I want to know. That’s not you overreacting—that’s just situational awareness.”
She nodded once, slowly. “Okay. Next time, I’ll try to get a plate number. If I can.”
“Good. But don’t put yourself at risk to get it.” He didn’t push further. Didn’t tell her his gut was already running scenarios, cataloging possibilities. Instead, he watched a little of the tension bleed from her posture, the normalcy of takeout and clicking chopsticks settling back around them like a blanket.
And he told himself not to show how much he was already on alert.
He stared out over the ocean as he gnawed on a sticky barbecued rib. Since the view faced the east, no sunset could be seen, only the lingering light it left behind. The sky over the neighborhood was still washed in pale gold and lavender, the kind of soft afterglow that hung around long after the sun dipped behind the opposite side of the house. A thin crescent moon was climbing off the horizon, faint but steady, like it was testing how bright it could dare to be.
“So how are your cases going?” she asked while adding food to her plate from a few different containers. “The two related shootings.”
He shook his head once. “Dragging. Should haveballistics back for the second shooting, but the first one came back related to a weapon used in another homicide in Havenwood about three weeks ago.” The large town was forty minutes west of Elizabeth City. Unfortunately, the detective at HPD hadn’t had anything useful either. Their case was stuck in the same mud as the SBI’s.
“What about the guy in the hospital? Still not talking?”
