“And Brian isn’t—” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “He’s good to me. He makes me happy. And he’s trying really hard for you to like him.”
Andy’s jaw flexed. Not anger—shame. “I just... I don’t like cops.”
“That’s fair,” she said gently. “Especially after what happened a few weeks ago. But this isn’t about the police. It’s about Brian. He’s a nice guy. I thought everything was good between you two after the other night, with those tickets he offered you and the three of us watching the movie together. What changed?”
“Nothing. And you’re right. He isn’t a bad guy. I guess I’m still annoyed he hauled me in that day.” He fidgeted with a loose thread on his jeans. “I’ll try to get past that.”
Her heart squeezed. “Thank you.”
After a beat, she asked lightly, “So... how’s Kelle?”
His entire face turned crimson. “Tess!”
She laughed quietly. “What? I can’t ask?”
“No.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Tess!”
Thankfully, she didn’t need to have the sex talk with him. Their neighbor Al had taken that burden off her shoulders a couple of years ago—pulling Andy aside with all the confidence of a man who’d survived raising two teens of his own. Since then, Al had slipped into a quiet father-figure role for Andy, teaching him how to change the oil in a car, showing him the difference between a good wrench and a useless one, and dragging him to the occasional ballgame or camping trip with his kids. Tess had been grateful for every bit of it.
Grinning, she shifted and used her foot to nudge his arm. “I’m happy for you. And I’m also proud of you. Mom and Dad would be proud too. You’re a good kid—don’t ever forget that.”
He huffed, clearly embarrassed but no longer angry. “Can I go back to my game now?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Just remember... I love you, and I’ll always be there for you. You can talk to me about anything. All right?”
He nodded.
She stood, ruffled his hair, then headed for the door. As she stepped into the hallway, the knot in her chest loosened—but only a little because he was still hiding something.
And she didn’t know how big it was yet.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The repairs on the house were finally coming together—the new roof finished, the damaged exterior wall reframed and wrapped, and the replacement sliding door propped nearby, waiting for installation. Inside, the living and dining rooms were stripped down to the studs, the ruined insulation hauled out, and the last of the warped flooring torn up.
Brian had walked through earlier with his hands in his pockets, nodding as he could already picture the place whole again. He didn’t rush Tess as she stood in the gutted living room, holding up her paint samples one by one against the exposed studs and imagining what color would make the space feel like home again.
“What do you think of these two?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “The green one is called Riverdale, and then the cream accent color is Polar Bear.
“I like them. You’ve got good taste.”
The compliment shouldn’t have made her stomach flip. But it did. “Thanks.”
“Any time.”
He held her gaze for a second longer than necessary, something thoughtful passing between them—quiet, steady, and unhurried. Then he nodded once, as if tucking her offer away somewhere he planned to revisit.
They left the unfinished house together, locking up while the late-afternoon sun painted long lines across the porch. Neither of them said much on the walk to their cars, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was... expectant. Like both of them knew the day wasn’t over yet.
They made a quick stop for some takeout, and she followed him back to his condo.
When she stepped inside for the first time, the place was unmistakably him. Clean lines. Comfortable but not fussy. The kind of tidy that came from habit, not effort. A deep navy throw hung over the back of the couch, softening the otherwise simple living room. The walls were plain white, and she could instantly picture the place with a little color—warm grays, maybe a muted blue by the windows. Something lived-in. Something inviting.
A few framed photos sat on the shelves flanking both sides of the TV—not many, but enough to sketch the outlines of his life. Brian, with his brothers, all three in sand-streaked clothes, squinting against the bright sun. Another of him and Dan on a fishing boat, each holding up a striped bass and looking proud in a way only family could make them. And one of a softball team, Rafe, at Brian’s left, both mid-laugh and dust-covered, probably from sliding into base or home plate.
