I tensed, torn between gratitude and guilt. The bottom line was, I needed their help. And I knew they were offering it without any strings, because they truly wanted to support me. Because they loved me. But knowing thattheoreticallydidn’t make it any easier to accept itactually.
Maybe it was just me — maybe it was a byproduct of growing up without a penny to my name — but I hesitated to take a handout from anyone. Even my best friends. Experience had taught me better. When you’ve got nothing, you learn early on that nothing is really free. There’s always payback involved.
This isn’t charity, Gwen,I scolded myself.They just want to help. Let them.
I forced my shoulders to un-tense and blew out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Okay. I just need to get an couple hours of shut-eye, take a shower, and locate some real clothes.”
“There’s no rush.” She paused, looking at my makeup-free face and wild hair. “Seriously. Take your time. Eat a breakfast sandwich. More importantly, brush your hair.”
My cheeks heated. It had not escaped my notice that my hair was out tothereafter letting it air dry all night. A wild riot of dark red curls cascaded around my shoulders, less like my usual look — a blatant emulation of Jessica Chastain’s sleek loose waves — and more like Merida fromBrave. “Are you sure you don’t mind doing this on your day off?”
They both shook their heads in tandem.
“Well… thank you. You’re saving my ass.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she murmured, licking cream cheese off her upper lip. “Make sure to remember us in your memoirs.”
“I’ll be in by noon,” I promised. “No later. I just need to get home—”
“I’ll take you,” Graham cut in, walking toward us. He was yanking on a brown thermal henley. He’d changed into dark wash jeans at some point during my conversation with Flo and Des. There were faded brown boots on his feet, a wickedly cool scuffed leather pair I instantly wanted in my size.
“I just spoke with one of my guys in the field,” he continued, eyes on mine. “He’s done a preliminary sweep of your property and the surrounding streets, made sure no one is watching your house. My tech guy is at base reviewing traffic camera footage from the past few hours, double checking for anything suspect. When we get there, I’ll do a quick walkthrough to make sure no one is inside.”
I stared at him for a moment. “You haveguyson this?Plural?”
“Why is that surprising?”
“I didn’t realize my kidnapping warranted such manpower. Don’t they have more important things to be doing? Catching criminals, taking compromising photos, planting corporate espionage wiretaps, beating the truth out of sources, that sort of thing?”
His lips twitched. “Where’d you get your concept of private investigations? A cartoon?”
“Old episodes of Moonlighting, mostly,” I admitted quietly.
Amusement flared in his eyes and his lip-twitch tugged up into a full-fledged grin. “Much as I appreciate the concern, all my cases are currently covered. Though, it’d help matters if you could avoid being kidnapped again. We’re stretched thin with three of my guys out of state after skips.”
“Skips?”
“Bond skips. People who are FTA in court.” He closed the final bit of distance between us, eyes still dancing with humor. “FYI, Gwendolyn, that’sfailure to appear, not Future Teachers of America.”
“I knew that,” I grumbled, even though I hadn’t.
Graham stopped next to me at the kitchen island, standing so close I had to fight the urge to skitter sideways. His arm brushed mine as he unwrapped his breakfast sandwich — everything bagel, double bacon, double fried eggs, with a crispy hash brown layer at the center — and took a large bite. The low sound of satisfaction that came from his throat as he swallowed made my stomach clench, but I tried my best to ignore him.
This attempt was unsuccessful, seeing as the second he’d swallowed, he leaned down and took a bite ofmysandwich before I could jerk it out of range.
“Hey!” I squawked. “Would youstopdoing that?!”
Graham’s mouth was fighting a playful grin as he chewed. “Sorry, babe. For some reason, breakfast just tastes better when it’s yours.”
I scowled at him and purposefully sidestepped out of range. Taking a large bite of my —my, not his!— breakfast, I looked up and found Flo and Des watching Graham and me with what could only be described as befuddled fascination.
“What?” I snapped.
“Nothing!” they said in unison, glancing down at the countertop. They couldn’t quite hide their matching smiles.
I rolled my eyes and looked at Graham. He’d already put a significant dent in his breakfast sandwich. As if he felt my gaze, he glanced my way, that playful smile still tugging at his mouth, and I quickly turned my attention back to my own breakfast.
“So, Graham,” Desmond said, cutting through the mounting tension. “You working any other cases lately? Besides figuring out this mess Gwen is caught up in, I mean.”