“Love.” He squinted. “I love you. I still think you’re an idiot—”
“Hey, I saved your ass—”
“I would’ve found a way out.” He appeared positivelyindignant.
“Well, now you don’t have to. Uh, maybe we can go somewhere warmer?”
“You two can go sit in the back of the cruiser.” Colton threw blankets at us.
That we deftly caught. I unfolded mine and wrapped it around my shoulders. Wasn’t likely to keep the chill at bay—but it might keep the worst of the snow off my clothes. “Why do we have to sit in the back of the cruiser? We’re not criminals.” Now I was indignant.
Colton glared—his dark brown eyes nearly black in the night. “Because I have a dead body and arson. Technically, you two shouldn’t even be in the same vehicle.”
“We’re not suspects.” This seemed super obvious to me. Clearly Colton didn’t agree.
“Finn has only been out of the hospital three days. He should be home. Or, even better, back at the hospital being checked out.” Ulysses. Trying to plead my case.
“Being at the hospital is never better.” I attempted to look serious. The shiver wracking me really didn’t help make the argument.
“Cruiser. Now.” Colton pointed.
With Ulysses beside me, I trudged that way. “In case I forget later, I really did mean that I love you.”
He grasped my hand. “I know. Trust me, I know.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ulysses
Isat at my desk and eyed my phone as if it had all the answers.
—Can I ask you on a date? —
I held my breath after sending the text to Finn. At least Colton had located Finn’s phone and returned it. Bruised, but still intact.
He replied immediately.—You just want to get laid. —
—Maybe. —
—There’s no maybe about it. —
Before I could answer, my phone rang. ‘Hey.” I tried to inject as much softness as I could.
“Hello, yourself. I woke up alone this morning.”
“Yeah.” I winced. “You were sleeping so peacefully—and I had this press conference to get to.”All or nothing. “Can I ask you on a third date? And fourth? How many dates do we have to count before we stop saying they’re dates?”
A long silence ensued. Then some rustling. “This is beginning to sound like…well, a long-term relationship. Except you don’t do relationships. Remember?”
“If you want to know the answer to that question, you’d better turn up to those dates. I’ll pick you up at seven. Okay?”
“I can meet you there—whereverthereis.”
“Stavros’s. Reservation for seven-thirty.”
“Wow. Fancy.”
I rolled my eyes. Stavros’s Greek wasn’t the fanciest in town…but the place was a step above what we normally did—which was fast food. “Would you prefer the Italian place?”
