Page 64 of Smooth Sailing

“You said not to invade her space. And I agree. She needs her space.”

Soft hit her expression. “Hugger, just knock on my door, and if I’m sleeping, just go through.”

“Been holdin’ it a half hour, babe. Can we discuss this after I drain my bladder?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

He went inside to take care of business, returned to the balcony to see her sitting on the light-blue cushions on the couch of her patio furniture, her bare feet up on the white coffee table, a mug of joe in her hand, so he went to the pot to warm up his before he joined her.

He sat in an armchair at corners to the couch.

“Sleep okay?” she asked.

He slept shit.

She was right; he was too big for her couch, even with the back cushions off.

And he was too close to her, lying in her big king bed all alone.

But it was what it was, and it was going to stay that way.

“Slept great,” he lied.

“Liar,” she whispered to her mug before she took a sip. She looked to him after she swallowed. “You seen Suzette?”

He shook his head.

“She’ll come out when she senses you’re out here.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

Her gaze drifted away. “I’m gonna talk to her today about protective custody. I forgot to mention yesterday that Dad told me he spoke with one of the cops who was keen to look after her. He also said the FBI wants to talk to her?—”

Hugger sat up straight. “Say what?”

Her eyes darted to him. “He said the FBI wants to talk to her.”

“Why?”

She pulled her shoulders forward but said, “Babic is a bad guy and probably doesn’t curtail his felonious activities solely to the Phoenix Metropolitan Area.”

“And what would Suzette know about that shit?”

“I don’t…” The importance of what they were discussing dawned on her, and she sat up straight too, taking her feet from the coffee table. “Oh shit, Hugger,” she whispered. “When Dad said it, I didn’t put it together.”

She wouldn’t. Her father rocked her world yesterday.

But now, she was.

“How much you know about her, babe?” he asked.

“Not really anything.”

“Tell me what you know,” he demanded.

“Not really anything,” she repeated. “And I’m not being cagey. She hasn’t opened up. At all.”

“How’d she get here? You pick her up from her place or what?”

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