This time I felt the heat spread from my neck to my cheeks. I put my hand on Lance’s arm. “It’s not like that. When I realized I was hurt, Chase said I had two choices…either go back to jail or stay here. I didn’t want to go back to jail for a week.”
Lance visibly swallowed and pulled me closer to his side. “I know. And I’m sorry. You’re right, Chase. I trusted you enough to protect her while she was here under your roof, but that’s when I thought there was a larger roof and stairs between you two.”
I held up my hand. “Hello. Twenty-five. Old enough to take care of myself. No one needs to protect me.”
They both ignored me.
“So we’re good?” Chase asked.
“We’re good,” Lance said.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Maybe nowI’mnot good.”
Chase snorted. “I think your mile-long rap sheet proves that statement true. You haven’t been a good girl since you were in diapers.”
“Hey!” I laughed. “Not fair!”
“C’mon,” Chase said, “you two might as well come keep me company in the kitchen while I finish marinating the steaks.”
I grabbed my compression sock and crutch and let Lance guide me into the kitchen behind Chase. And what a lovely behind it was.
“Grab some beers from the fridge, Lance,” Chase said. “I’m almost finished here.”
I sat down on a barstool then frowned when Lance only brought out two beers. “Where’s mine?”
Chase snorted. “House arrest, remember? How many times do I have to remind you this isn’t a party.”
I rolled my eyes and proceeded to put on my sock. “It’s not like I’m on house arrest because of something alcohol related. I hid shrimp in a rich guy’s car.”
“That alone would make someone think you were drunk,” Chase deadpanned.
Lance ruffled my hair, sat down next to me, and took a long swig from his bottle. “No booze for you. I’m telling you that as your attorney.”
“But as my friend,” I said, “maybe you’ll let me steal a swig?”
Laughing, Lance pushed the bottle away from me. “No.”
The three of us stayed like that, laughing, preparing dinner, telling stories. When it was time to move outside to grill, Lance moved my chair as close as possible to the threshold so I could still participate and talk while they grilled. Propping my bare feet up on the counter, I ignored Chase’s raised eyebrow, and figured now was my time to find out more about him.
“So you both went to school here in Trinity Falls?” I asked.
“Yep,” Lance said. “Chase was about five years under me, but our parents and grandparents are all friends.”
I knew that already.
“Did you go straight to the military after high school?” I asked Chase.
“Yeah. Left for boot camp two weeks after graduation.”
“And then you came back and decided to be a cop?” I prodded.
He shrugged. “Pops was the sheriff of our county for more years than I could count, so law enforcement seemed like a good fit after my stint in the military.”
“The way of the light,” I said. “Peace keeper, protector, defender of wrongs.”
“What about you?” Chase asked. “You always want to be a career criminal? Did you raise your hand in school on Career Day when they asked who wanted to spend time in and out of jail their whole life?”
I scowled. “For your information, smarty pants, I didn’t go to public school. I washomeschooled. So we didn’t have Career Day, we had Proper Procedures on Protesting Day.”
