He heaved a heavy sigh, then followed his brother inside. I flinched at the sound of the screechy screen door swinging shut at his back. Georgia was still standing on the porch, grinning at us like this was the best day of her freaking life. When she caught my pointed glare — the one that clearly saiddon’t you dare make a comment— she openly giggled.
“I’ll just…” She grinned wider. “Be inside. You guys, um… Take your time.Really.”
My glare intensified.
Another giggle drifted out the door as she pulled it shut. As for me, I wasn’t laughing. I turned wary eyes back to Cade’s broad chest, then up the tanned column of his throat, past his twitching mouth, and eventually to his eyes. There was still a goodly amount of heat burning in their depths, but also an unmistakable edge of humor.
“And what,” I said icily, “Are you laughing at, detective?”
“We just got caught making out by a six-year-old, Goldie.”
“Rory is seven,” I corrected automatically.
“Doesn’t make it less funny.”
“On the contrary, I don’t see anything remotely amusing about this.”
“Then you aren’t looking hard enough.”
With that, he grinned, bent in, and brushed his mouth against mine again. It was a shadow of the kiss we’d shared before, but it was still good. The toe-curling, stomach-somersaulting, heart-fluttering sort of good. When his mouth left mine, I was fighting the urge to squirm. Thankfully, before I could humiliate myself further, his arms dropped away and he stepped back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he informed me.
My eyes widened. “You will?”
“Goldie.” He shook his head. “You think I’m going to stay away after you just kissed me like that?”
“I didn’t kiss you.Youkissedme.”
“You kissed me back.”
I clamped my lips shut because, well, I had.
“Fuck, you’re cute.” He reached out and tapped my nose with his index finger.
Before I could protest that I wasn’t cute, thank you very much, he walked back to his SUV, climbed inside, started the engine, and drove away. I was still standing there like a thunderstruck idiot when I heard the swing of the heavy front door, followed by the telltale screech of the screen.
“So,” Gigi called, sounding like she was about two seconds from breaking down into another fit of giggles. “How was your day? Anything interesting happen?”
I dropped my head into my hands and groaned.
Chapter Ten
Dating someone new is like getting disconnected from customer service. You have to tell your whole story from the very beginning.
- Imogen Warner, calling tech support
I scowled down at my phone screen, eyes pinned to the ugly message that had popped up as I pedaled to The Gallows.
Getting real tired of this game of cat and mouse you’re playing, doll. You don’t make it right, I’ll make you pay.
The text had come from an unlisted number. No name, no contact info. Still, I knew it was Adrian. It was always Adrian. I mentally scratched ‘get a new phone number’ onto my to-do list, then shoved my phone into my backpack and promptly put my douchebag ex-boyfriend out of my head.
I had bigger fish to fry, today.
Nervous butterflies fluttered in my gut as I stepped inside the shop. It was 8:35AM. I was officially early, but I’d been pacing by the bike rack for ten full minutes now, and if I didn’t stop I figured someone would call the cops on me for suspicious behavior. (Seeing as, with my luck, the responding cop would probably be one Detective Caden Hightower, I decided I was just fine with being early for my first shift.)
The door swung shut with a tinkle of bells from the old-fashioned chime overhead. This time, there was no greeting party of too-hot-to-handle Gravewatch men leaning against various shelves and surfaces, exuding scary yet strangely enticing energy. Instead, Gwendolyn Goode stood alone by the espresso bar, polishing the steam-wand with a damp rag. She was wearing a super-chic asymmetrical sweater that, even from a distance, looked more expensive than anything in my closet. Her long red hair was swept back from her temples in an elegant twist. Her face broke into a huge smile when she spotted me.