I’d never thought I’d find something to laugh about today, but I couldn’t help it as it burst out of me so hard that I fell into Carter’s side.
“At least the vagina-seeking pickle missile’s in the trash,” he said, making me laugh even harder.
Carrying his vest in her hand, Jacinda marched back into the room with Canon at her heels. “There we go, one pickle-free vest of protection for one of Piersville’s finest. Please note it doesn’t smell like Febreze and instead smells like Downy because I used laundry detergent, not dish soap.”
“Thanks,” he muttered drily. “Appreciate it.”
Crossing her arms, she looked between the two of us. “Are we not finishing our Bond parkour-ing?”
Groaning, Carter shifted forward and got up, putting his vest back on once he was standing. “I’ll leave you to it. I just wanted to check in on Nome and make sure she was all right.”
Canon winked at me, and it took everything in me not to reach up and wipe my chin in case I had drool on it. “I came for the same reason. Now that we can see for ourselves you’re good, I’m gonna head back to Kleins to help out. Do either of y’all need anything sent over?”
Given that I was relatively sober again and had no intentions of drinking any more alcohol, I shook my head and looked at Jacinda.
“Nah, we’re great, thanks. I think we need to pull the blankets and pillows out, lie out on the sofa, and snuggle now.”
Shit, that sounded like the best idea I’d ever heard. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was until Jacinda had said that.
Lifting his hand in a brief wave, Carter walked toward my door. “Have a good night, ladies, and if you need anything, just shout one of us.” Then, smiling softly at me, he added, “See you tomorrow, Nome.”
Following him, Canon gave a similar farewell, and then it was just the two of us again. I didn’t realize I was staring at the door until a cushion hit me in the side of the head.
“You and that man make me feel sick, woman,” Jacinda muttered. “Sick to my toes. I mean, it also makes me happy for you and Shanti, but have you seen how hot he is? Sick, I tell you.”
Rolling my eyes, I pushed myself up off the couch and got the pillows and blankets, chucking Jacinda’s at her as I walked past her to my side for the night. It wasn’t the first time she’d said that, or someone had said something similar, but the fact of the matter was—we were just friends. We had history and a link from the past that maybe made it look like something else was there, but for him it was totally innocent.
For me, I could admit that I’d jump him faster than you could say the letter ‘A.’ No, more quickly than you could even open your mouth to begin saying the letter. But I’d come to terms and had accepted—I could lie to myself about that—it was never going to happen, and people would with time, too.
So, ignoring the comment, I changed the television channel, stopping when it got to a program about tuna fishing.
“Hey, my dad’s a tuna fisherman.” Glancing at Jacinda to ask her a question about it, I snorted when I saw she was asleep with her mouth open. It’d happened in the blink of an eye, but she worked long days, so it’d probably all caught up with her.
Keeping the side lights on, I snuggled down and watched the program until my eyelids got too heavy to stay open anymore.
I’d expected to spend tonight on my own, crying over Callum and bringing to the surface all of my worries about Shanti. Instead, I’d talked them out with Carter, laughed with Jacinda and Canon, and was now falling asleep with company instead of alone.
I don’t know if the residents of the town understood how much of a difference they made to people like me, but I did know I’d never be able to find a way to pay them all back. Working for the police department was kind of my way of trying to do it, but it’d never be enough.
FOUR
Carter
Five days later…
“Still smelling fresh there, Lane,” Reid snickered as I walked past him to the office I was sharing with Alex. “Better than the Febreze way of life.”
I’d been hearing shit like this ever since Canon and Jacinda had cleaned my vest with fabric softener instead of soap. They could say what they wanted; I preferred the smell to the musty ‘you need to wash your vest’ one they all had going on.
Still, I couldn’t let it slide, so, flicking him the finger, I glanced over my shoulder. “You smell like raw chicken that’s been baking in the sun for three days, man. Maybe you should try putting some Downy on it.”