Stirring Up Trouble (Rosewood 4) - Page 27

“I say we catch the little bastard and put a stop to this whole thing.”

Emmett’s eyes widened at Maddie’s bitter yet unexpected enthusiasm. “Catch him? Isn’t that the cops’ job?”

Maddie shrugged and eyed the directions on the paint remover designed to take graffiti off brick. “They haven’t managed to do it yet. Someone should. This needs to stop, and I think we’d be able to find him.”

“Why us?”

“For one thing, we both keep weird hours. We’re both awake at two or three in the morning and, to me, that’s the prime time to do this sort of thing. If I got up a little earlier and you stayed up a little later, we could do some hunting without anyone knowing.”

Emmett wasn’t so sure. He was already mandated to spend six hours a week with Maddie. Was voluntarily spending more time with her going to help or hurt their situation? He had to admit that their fighting seemed to have stopped since they got arrested. The week had been fairly quiet, and no one called the cops Friday night. He hadn’t had a live act playing that night, but she hadn’t turned him in on ladies’ night, either. Maybe the worst of it was truly behind them.

“Are you going to help me or just stand there?”

Maybe.

“I’m coming,” he said. They used spray bottles to spritz the graffiti with paint remover and then had to kill a half hour while it dissolved the paint before they hit it with the pressure washer.

“It’s a shame we can’t leave,” Maddie said when they finished and settled onto the sidewalk to wait. “We’re half a block from my house. At the very least, we could sit on my couch and wait in climate-controlled comfort instead of sitting out on the curb.”

“We could go in the firehouse and annoy your brother,” Emmett noted.

Maddie shook her head. “If I go in there without baked goods for them, they’d never let me come back.”

Emmett leaned back on his hands. “You mean you didn’t pack us a treat today? You spoiled me with those MoonPies.”

“I didn’t say that.” Maddie reached into her bag and pulled out a box with two sticky buns in it. “I just don’t have enough for everyone.”

She handed over one of the gooey, nut-covered pastries and Emmett’s stomach growled. He’d managed five hours of sleep before he got up for this and hadn’t left himself enough time for food, just a mug of strong black coffee before he ran out the door. “You’re going to get me hooked on all your goodies, and then I’ll have to come into your shop and buy them after we’ve served our debt to society.”

Maddie smiled and tore off a bite that she popped into her mouth. She seemed more laid-back today. Happier. Last time he’d been too freaked out by how high up they were to notice her state of mind, but she seemed almost human today. The smile was a nice touch. Without stress etched into her face, there was a softness about her that made her beauty even more undeniable. In the early-morning light, there was a glow to her skin that beckoned him to touch her.

But he wouldn’t. One good morning d

idn’t mean she’d changed for good. Perhaps their battle was just feeding itself—the less sleep they got, the crankier they were; the more trouble they caused, the less sleep they got. Somehow, the cycle had been broken and they both seemed fairly at ease with each other. For now. He would never say it out loud, but maybe it was a good thing that they had gotten arrested.

“How’s your new bakery assistant?” Emmett asked. He’d heard she’d hired one of the high schoolers to help. He’d had to make similar arrangements with Joy. He decided to open a little late on Wednesdays, but on Saturdays she’d open the bar and watch it during the early afternoon while he took a nap and showered. There was no way he could make it to two in the morning without a break.

“She’s amazing. It’s only been a few days and I really don’t know how I’ve ever lived without her. She minds the shop in the afternoon, which gives me time to do other things. She cleans and helps bake. I’m absolutely spoiled and it’s only the fifth day she’s worked for me.”

“Ahh,” Emmett said. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you’re in such a good mood. You’re not nearly as stressed out as usual.”

“It certainly helps,” she admitted. “And I think we’ve both slept better this week, don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely.”

“A good night’s sleep gives you perspective. This morning I woke up and decided that I don’t want to sit back and let something like this go on anymore.” She gestured toward the blue fireman penis that was starting to drip down the wall. “The whole point of Judge Griffin making us work together was so that we would learn to get along. I think finding this guy and turning him over to the police would be a great way for us to build . . . I don’t know . . . a rapport.”

“A rapport?”

“Yes, a relationship. One where I can call and ask you to turn down the music and you will, because you’re not on the defensive about it.”

Emmett chuckled. “And what do I get out of this relationship? Are you going to stop parading princesses outside my window?”

“I will. I might also bring you your favorite goodies from time to time.”

Tags: Andrea Laurence Rosewood Romance
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