You’d think she was in high school. Except that she’d never been a ninny in high school. Not even once. She’d been too busy dealing with life to have a single ninny moment.
She thought of Ramsey, alone somewhere in the middle of the night, sending a text and waiting for a reply.
It’d be cruel to make him wait. He didn’t deserve that.
She pushed the green button on her phone. Opened up the text message waiting for her.
It was all of one word.
Me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After sending his ludicrous text—which he was going to explain away by the one beer he’d had after work at Bill’s invitation several hours before—Ramsey opened the Jack Colton folder.
Halfway through the first couple of pages, he picked up his phone, just to make certain he hadn’t missed something coming in.
Nothing. There was nothing new in the first few pages of the folder, either.
It wasn’t like Lucy to walk away from anything. Obviously he’d offended her.
Because he needed her input on the Claire Sanderson case, he picked up his phone, reopened the text conversation between the two of them and typed, Sorry, with one thumb.
She’d warned him. It could appear that he’d ignored her warning. Just what she’d probably expect a guy to do.
For what?
Pushing.
Pushing what?
Not sure.
???
Leave it.
Not a good idea.
He frowned. The whole thing was out of control. What do you want?
To know what you want.
That was easy. Your trust.
You’ve got it.
Relaxed, he made his second stupid move of the night. Outside of business?
Why in the hell had he done that? He picked up the folder again. And heard his text message tone before he’d focused on the first Jack Colton page.
Yes.
Lying there nude, with the covers halfway up his chest, Ramsey nodded. Squirmed in the bed a bit.
And then said, Good. Night.
Night.