Page 80 of This is a Kissing Book

“On your couch.”

“Full marks for observation skills.”

She runs both hands through her hair, which only makes the situation worse.

I like abruptly waking up Jules. Sleepy, late-night Jules. All versions of Juliana Lindley.

She asks, “What time is it?”

I check my watch, trying not to focus on how the morning light makes her skin glow or how her sleep-rumpled appearance makes me want to pull her back into my arms. “Seven-thirty. Plenty of time before work.”

Instead of looking relieved, panic flashes across her face. “The painting!” She jumps up and gathers photos from the kitchen island. “We never returned it to the gallery.”

Right. The lawbreaking. How did I forget about it so quickly? I was distracted by this amazing woman who happened to fall asleep on the couch with me last night.

She turns in a frantic circle as if trying to get her bearings. “We have to get it back. Today. Right now.”

I softly grip her upper arms. “Jules, breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

“No, you don’t understand. This is stolen goods. If we get caught with it⁠—”

“We won’t get caught.” I shake my head slowly as my mind hatches a hasty plan.

Brow creased, she says, “But we can’t leave it here. I’ll take it back to my place.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not letting you take the fall for this.”

“You’re an Andresen, high profile. I’m … nobody.” Her voice wavers.

“No one is going to take the fall because no one knows,” I insist. “You’re being paranoid.”

“We’re art thieves, Linc. We have reason to be.”

“We’re conducting an investigation.”

“Authorized by what governing authority?”

I can’t help but grin at her indignation. “The concerned family of Abraham Lincoln.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile she’s trying to suppress. “Don’t joke about this.”

“It’s better than jumping to worst-case scenarios. Unless you have a prior criminal history, we have no reason to worry. Should I run a background check on you? Any skeletons in your closet?” I tease.

Jules lets out a strangled laugh. “My closet? You’ve been to my studio. There is only an armoire.”

Taking a risk, I draw her into a hug. “If something goes wrong, I’ll make sure everyone knows this was my idea. You were just following orders from your demanding boss.”

She tips her head back, but her gaze remains unfocused as if dozens of thoughts collide in her mind, causing a traffic jam. “You’re right. No one is taking any fall because no one’s going to find out,” she repeats, but the tremor in her voice suggests she’s not entirely convinced.

I study her face, noting the way she won’t quite meet my eyes and the protective set of her shoulders. I suddenly worry there is more to Jules than she’s letting on, layers of secrets hidden behind her bright smile and spunky personality. Then again, I’m hardly in a position to judge anyone for keeping things hidden.

“We should probably get ready for work,” I say reluctantly. “It’s Monday. Your favorite day of the week.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “How did you know that?”

I count on my fingers. “Let’s see. Where to start? You’re the only person at Meridian who brings leftover weekend energy into the office instead of exhaustion. Last week, you printed out motivational quotes and left them on everyone’s keyboards. You often bring a baked good you made over the weekend to share in the lunchroom. You also water the office plants every Monday and hum while you do it. And you always wear something colorful at the start of the week like you’re rebelling against the Monday blahs.”

A flush spreads across her cheeks. “You pay attention to a lot of unnecessary details.”