“When did he tell you that?”
She goes quiet.
“...when we were at the Purple Bobcat.”
Of course. The night I was a total ass.
I’m not sure I want to keep dwelling on that, but I also need to know everything about this dude.
Is he normally a snoop? How much has he been creeping around private areas of Amelia’s or anywhere else he doesn’t belong?
She said her concerns were about her grandmother, and I get that. I also sense she’s holding back again.
“He told me something else that night,” she says.
“What?”
“I mean, it might be nothing, but let me show you...” She waves for me to follow her out of the kitchen again.
I do, hating how easily my eyes stick to her.
She’s wearing blue jean shorts today with frayed edges that show off her long legs. Plus, a purple top with short sleeves and a hem that stops just below the waistband of her jeans.
I can’t rip my gaze off her delectable peach of an ass as we walk.
So this is how it feels to be a toy dog on a short leash.
We end up in the lobby and I watch her login to the computer.
“So, while we were talking, Carson told me about this uncle of his who died while looking for a meteorite,” she says. “I didn’t think much about anything he said until I was going through the scrapbook last night. Did you know our grandfathers and Jonah Reed found some weird rocks by the lake one time? Thelma and Faye said the guys thought they were meteorites—they even got them tested and everything—but they weren’t.”
Huh?
It takes me a hot minute to make my mind focus. Other parts of my anatomy aren’t reined in so easily.
One angry part of me remembers too well what it lost.
What it felt like having her in my arms, what I could’ve taken too easily, and it makes my jeans suffocating right now.
“West, are you listening?” she snaps, turning her head with this irritated frown.
Damn, she’s too adorable right now.
I suck in a fortifying breath.
“Yeah. Thinking back, I’m sure I knew about the rocks they found. Aunt Faye told me about my grandfather’s rock when I moved the shelf. She brings up that story every couple years, I think.”
Shelly nods, frantically scrolling through pictures on the screen.
“Check this out. It’s a different listing that wasn’t on the phone when she showed you and Drake. It might not mean anything but...look what she forgot to move.”
I lean in closer, all the better to inhale her glorious red curls that smell like the next world.
“Yeah, that’s the shelf I hauled into the garage for her,” I say blankly, my eyes scanning for whatever she wants me to see.
“I know, but look at what’s on it. The rock. It’s even got the little sign that says Larry’s Meteorite and the date he found it.”
Oh, hell.