Page 132 of Buried Too Deep

“She’d like you,” Phin returned, equally dryly. He was quiet for a few heartbeats and she could almost hear him considering his words. “I sometimes think about going back to that alley. Asking some of the guys if they want to come live with me here in New Orleans. Work with me. They have skills, but they can’t get a foothold in the real world. Getting a job’s hard when you’re homeless or when you’re not sure if you can commit to an everyday responsibility. Knowing they’ll get fired the first time they have to take time off to decompress keeps a lot of them from even looking. So they just stay where they are, and the days turn to years.”

“Have you told this to Stone?”

“Not yet. He’d help me figure something out. He’s good with jumping in to solve everyone’s problems. He seems ornery and obnoxious, but he’s got a soft heart under all the barbs and thorns.”

“Delores loves him. She seems like she’d know what’s what.”

Cora wanted Phin to have someone like Delores. Someone who’d be there for him when he spiraled. Someone to help him surface and start again.

In time, Cora thought that someone could even be herself. In time.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “You shared a lot of personal stuff with me that you didn’t have to share. I’m glad you did. It let me know you a little better and it took my mind off the elephant in the room.”

“Patrick.”

She closed her eyes, leaning into Phin. Taking a little of the strength he so unselfishly offered. “Yes. I need to talk to Tandy.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Burke thinks it’s a bad idea. Do you?”

“I think it’s going to hurt you and I don’t want you hurt. But sometimes what needs doing isn’t pleasant.”

He was right once again. “I’m so tired, Phin.”

“I know,” he murmured. “One thing I have learned is that sleep is pretty miraculous. It will clear your head.”

“Tandy will be here in a few hours. Maybe less.”

“You have time for a nap.”

Cora hesitated, feeling like a child. “Will you stay with me until I go to sleep?”

“Of course.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t know how I can help you other than fixing your faucets and helping you sleep.”

She laughed, surprised at the sound. “Are those euphemisms, Phin?”

He choked on a laugh of his own. “No.” He stroked his hand over her hair, his tone going low and wicked. “Although they can be, when you’re ready.”

A shiver raced all over her skin and Cora thought she could be ready for that very soon. Her body, gone dormant for so long, was finally waking up. “It’s been a while for me.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “Part of the whole not-feeling thing.”

“Same. My last relationship was when I was just out of college. Then John Robert got sick and my life was wound around him. Treatment and care and looking for my father.” Who’d been lying dead under a building all this time.

Time. I wasted so much of it. She couldn’t waste any more. She wouldn’t waste any more. It felt like a vow. It felt good.

She shrugged, remembering that last relationship. “The guy said buh-bye, that I wasn’t fun any longer.” It had hurt at the time but not enough for her to fight for the man. She thought she would’ve fought for Phin.

Phin made a growling sound in his throat. “Part of me wants to throat-punch him. The other part of me wants to send him a thank-you card.”

“Is it wrong that the thought of you throat-punching him pleases me?”

“It’s why I like you,” he said, sounding satisfied. “Now, as much as I’d like to keep holding you, you need to take that nap.”

Because Tandy was coming, and there would be a hard reckoning, one way or another. Tandy was no fool. The questions Cora would ask would infuriate her friend either way.

And if Phin was right? If Patrick was involved?

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