Page 81 of Wish You Were Mine

I sighed. “I know, and maybe I’m being overly cautious, but I’m not sure you realize how tempting you are. If I knew you were sleeping just down the hall, I might make decisions I otherwise wouldn’t.”

Her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “I think you’re just trying to butter me up.”

I shrugged. “Maybe partly, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Let’s do this right, Summer.”

“Fine.” She wrapped her arms around me and rested her cheek against my chest. “Let me soak up the feel of you before you go.”

I held her close, loving the fact there was no space between us. When she pulled back, I dipped my head and brushed my lips over hers. The kiss lingered but didn’t deepen. This moment wasn’t about that. It was about connection.

“Will you at least let me drive you to Frannie’s place, so I know you got there safely?” she asked after we separated.

“I’d like that.” Perhaps it meant something inside me was fucked up, but it was nice to know she worried over me. “Just let me pack a bag.”

She sat on the sofa and waited while I went to my bedroom and put a couple of changes of clothes in a bag, along with my toiletries. I’d need a shower soon or I’d stink out Frannie’s place.

Cookie was still asleep on the bed, so I scooped her into my arms and carted her to the pet carrier. She gave a mew of protest at being disturbed but didn’t struggle. Frannie and Dean had a cat, so I didn’t bother packing food or kitty litter. They’d have plenty of that.

With my duffel bag in one hand and Cookie’s carrier in the other, I joined Summer in the living room.

She arched an eyebrow at the sight of the cat. “You’re taking her with you?”

“Yeah. She’s family. I’m not going to leave her here alone if there’s a chance of someone coming back.”

I might not show it, but the question that had been scratched on that rock unnerved me. Honestly, I was a little scared, and I doubted I’d be able to sleep unless I knew the people—and cats—I cared most about were safe.

We left the house, and I locked the front door and checked that the board across the window was solid, then we got into Summer’s Ute, and she drove me several blocks over, to Frannie’s charming 19th century home, complete with white picket fence and a well-maintained front garden.

She parked outside and I looked across the center console at her delicate face in the dark.

“Thanks for coming over,” I told her. “I don’t like you putting yourself in danger, but I appreciate you wanting to be there for me.”

“No problem.” She reached across, took my hand, and squeezed it. “How about you don’t get into any more excitement today though?”

I gave her a tired smile. “It’s a deal.”

I opened the passenger door and climbed down, then slung my bag over one shoulder and carefully lifted Cookie’s carrier out.

“Good night,” she said.

“Night.” I tipped my head to her and let myself through the gate onto my sister’s property. Summer remained where she was until Dean had opened the door and welcomed me inside. Only then did she leave.

“Come on in,” Dean said. “We’re watching TV.”

I stepped inside, and he glanced down at my bag, frowning.

“You here to stay the night?”

“I had a bit of an incident at home,” I told him. “Is it all right if I do?”

I knew they’d say yes, but it was polite to ask. I should have called ahead but hadn’t been thinking clearly enough to do so.

“Of course. Frannie,” he called as we entered the living area. Warmth greeted us, along with the comforting scent of baby powder. “Asher is here. He’s got something to tell us.”

Frannie was sitting cross-legged on the floor while Marcy slept in her arms with a plush blue bear on her lap. Dean reached down to take the baby from her, and I sat beside her on the floor. With as few words as possible, I explained the events of the day.

Frannie grimaced as I described my altercation with James Conroy and gasped as I mentioned the broken window. I left out the message on the rock. There was no point in scaring her unnecessarily. Most likely, it had been a nasty prank by James and wouldn’t lead to anything else.

“Seems like it’s a day for vandals,” she said. “Someone punctured a hole in one of my tires yesterday. I wouldn’t have realized it was intentional except that they left a pocketknife sticking out of it.”

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