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“Then quit sounding disappointed.” I tease.

“I’m not disappointed.”

“You look disappointed.” That earns me an elbow.

The Range Rover comes into view exactly where I left it. I slow dramatically. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

She looks at me. “What?”

“My car’s still here.”

She rolls her eyes so hard I catch it out of the corner of my eye.

“It’s a miracle.”

“Really thought that second lock was going to be the deciding factor.”

I hit the key fob, anyway.

One beep. Laney catches it and gives me a pointed look.

“Once,” I say. “See? Personal growth.”

I open her door, and she gives me another one of those looks before climbing inside. Her stomach growls. I stop, one hand still on the top of the door, and look down at her.

“That cheese danish still holding you over?”

“I hate you.” She closes her eyes with a sigh.

“You know you secretly love me.” Her eyes open slowly and fix on mine.

For a second, neither of us says anything.

Then I straighten and tap the roof of the Rover before closing her door. By the time I round the hood and slide behind the wheel, whatever that was is gone. Mostly.

“How about I pick up pizza on the way home? I’ll even let you pick the toppings.”

“That’s suspiciously generous.”

I start the engine and pull away from the curb. She shivers beside me, so I reach over and turn on her seat warmer without asking.

“I’m known for my philanthropy.”

“You’re known for being annoying.”

“Also true.”

She settles deeper into the seat and steals control of the radio, and just like that, some of the tension I’ve been carrying since we walked into the building eases.

I meant what I said. She can stay with me as long as she needs to. But I know Delaney Beckett and the harder I push, the harder she’ll push back. So, I leave it alone.

She turns the radio up and starts flipping through my presets, which are mostly country or rock.

I glance over. “Now you’re just abusing my hospitality.”

“Your music sucks.”

And there she is… Baby Becks is back to being Baby Becks.