Page 42 of Sinful Sorrow

“Things are okay,” Fletch answers. Tired. Sighing. “Mostly okay. You got time to talk the Wallace case through now?”

“You got the headspace to talk the Fletcher thing through first?” Archer crosses the room, phone in one hand, and snags mine with the other. He leaves his little brother by the door, holding my coat, and leads me into the kitchen instead. He sets the phone on the counter, then he grabs me by the hips and boosts me up to sit beside the device—no arguments. “Because I guess I was probably a little snappy earlier. And you need me to have your back.” He settles between my legs, forcing me to hug him. To rest on him while he rests on me. “How are you?”

“Shit.” Fletch gentles his voice, so in my mind, I wonder if he’s checking in on a sleeping Mia. Then he carefully closes a door so the air changes to something a little more echo-y. “My daughter is confused, Arch. Not only is her mom back, but she’s had the absolute fucking guts kicked out of her. The bruising is getting worse every hour, and Jada’s mood is getting…”

Meaner.

Darker.

Desperate.

“I dunno, man. She really wants to change this time. I know you don’t believe it because we’ve been living with this for a couple of years already. But the woman I saw in the hospital is not the same woman we know.”

“If you think this is the best choice, then it’s the best choice.” Archer exhales, so his warm breath bathes my scalp. Then he sets his hands on my thighs and pulls them in tighter, so I have no choice but to crush him between them. “I’m sorry for not being totally on board earlier.”

“Thanks…” The sound of a toilet seat closing echoes through the call. Then an exhale as he sits and the crackle of his stubble as he scrapes his hand over the coarse hair. “She’s sleeping now. And Mia’s in my bed. She’s not out yet, but she’s close.”

“What about you? You gonna sleep?”

He chuckles. Though the sound comes with absolutely no humor. “I hope so. My brain is fuckin’ fried after today. How can something that isn’t physical labor completely wipe a man out so easily?”

“Because mental loads are intrinsically heavier,” I murmur, outing myself as part of this conversation. Silence hangs and tension grows to the same beat as my heart. “Sorry, Fletch I’m listening in.”

“Would’ve been surprised if you weren’t, Delicious. You up to date on all the drama yet?”

“I got the highlights. You doing okay?”

He blows out a gusting breath. “I’m doing. That’s all I can muster at the moment. Remember a little while back, before you and Arch got hitched that first time, and you found out Mia even existed?”

“When you walked in with a cute little girl who smelled a little bit funky, but her heart was so pure, I decided I could change my stance on hating all children?” I release a small, quiet laugh. “What about it?”

“Remember when I asked you to marry me? Because you were drama free and pretty solid. You had that thing going on with Arch, but I had a daughter who needed a mommy, and you had that medical degree which made it so I could sleep easier at night knowing we wouldn’t have to worry about much of anything for as long as you were around. Have you reconsidered your stance on that?”

I run my fingers through Archer’s hair, scratching his scalp and grinning when his eyes meet mine. “I’m kinda committed over here, Detective Fletcher. Sorry.”

“Figures. And Aubs?”

“It’s the Malone effect, I think. Doctors for douchebags.” I press a kiss to Archer’s forehead, a kind of oops, sorry that only makes him smirk. “It’s a thing. But I bet I could find you someone worthy if you give me a few months and a lobotomy.”

Chuckling, he sits back on his toilet and groans as he finds a comfortable position. “Why do you need to scramble your brains for this?”

“Because playing matchmaker requires speaking to people. And that’s,” I wrinkle my nose, “that’s not really my thing. I suppose I could have Aubs set up an online dating account for you. Swiping left and right isn’t a huge time suck, is it?”

“It’s really easy,” Cato inserts, joining the conversation and informing Fletch of his entire audience. “I don’t even look at their profiles. Swipe right. Swipe right. Swipe right.” He leaves my coat on the rack and wanders closer to the counter. “Three in every five will send me a picture of her tits before I even say hello. It’s those other two you wanna pay attention to. One will be crazy. The other, your future wife.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you.” I press my palm to his forehead and shove him away when he attempts to lean closer. “There was a step skipped during evolution. A coding malfunction and the perfect storm of imperfect DNA that somehow led to you.”

“You’re a hurtful person, Doctor Cutie. Why do you insist on breaking my heart?”

“Mine too,” Fletch murmurs. “Won’t even marry a desperate man?”

“I did. Twice. And I haven’t been married long enough for a fifty percent claim on assets. So I’m gonna have to stick it out in this one for a little longer.”

“I screwed up, guys.” Finally turning serious, Fletch groans. “Really bad.”

“With Jada?”

“With Sera.”

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