Page 53 of Cold Case Murder Mystery

She grinned at him, humor dancing in her eyes. “Nah.”

“Cool. Maybe I’ll talk to Walker.”

That earned him an even bigger eye roll. “We’re not like Walker.”

“We’re not?”

“No. Walker is a... what would you call it? Caretaker. He’s mush on the inside. Always has been, no matter how tough he tried to be on the outside.”

That was fair and true. Zeke had always considered Walker the best of them, personality-wise. Not perfect or anything, just... more whole, he supposed. He didn’t know why he was surprised to hear Carlyle say the same. “And what are we?”

“Less mush. More razor blade. Can’t expose that vulnerable underbelly, right?”

Zeke shrugged even though he supposed that was the crux of it all. Those soft feelings he’d spent his whole life hiding—with razor blades, he reckoned—to protect himself from everything out there.

“And that’s what you gotta do with love. Show the vulnerabilities. There’s no getting around it. Sucks, but that’s life.”

“I already sort of messed things up with her once. A while back.”

“Ah,” she said, as if that explained everything. “So, it’s not just current you that’s the problem. It’s past you. And past you was kind of a dick.”

He scowled at her, but she shrugged. “Hey, thekind ofwas me trying to be nice.”

Zeke didn’t bother to respond to that. It wasn’tuntrue, though he wasn’t sure it wasfairof feral Carlyle to call him out on it.

“Not much experience in the mending-a-broken-heart thing,” she continued. “But I guess it’s the same as anything else, except with more patience. You love someone, you be there for them, and you tell them. You can’t make them get it through their thick skulls. That’s gotta be on them.”

Tell them. Zeke grimaced. He’d always felt likelovewas a kind of bad word. The sort of thing that had messed his mother up so much she’d gotten herself mixed up with two useless criminals—who’d worked together to end her life.

ZekelovedBrooke, because he didn’t have another word for the feeling, but saying it felt like... well, he guessed what Carlyle had said. Exposing a soft, vulnerable underbelly when he’d spent his life putting armor around it.

“It’s not a magic word, I guess. But if it’s real, if you mean it, it feels pretty damn close. And it can heal a lot of broken things. Not all of them, but a lot of them.”

They’d come full circle around the house and back to her truck, and she’d been very real, very honest, very her. Somewhere along the instability, fear and danger of their childhood, she’d turned into this stable, adjustedwoman. He’d always known Walker had that kind of thing in him, but to see Carlyle step into her own, and still be herself, was a confidence boost.

He reached out, took her left hand and jiggled the finger that had a ring on it. Anengagementring. So incongruous to everything he thought they’d have. “You really going to do the wholeMrs. thing?”

“Don’t forget stepmom thing. We’ll have a high schooler next year.”

When in so many ways Carlyle was still a teenager to him, even if she was in her midtwenties now. But here she was saying things likeWe’ll have.

“Izzy’s a good kid,” he offered, because he liked Cash’s daughter. And more, he knew Carlyle loved the girl.

“The best,” Carlyle replied brightly.

“And I guess Cash is all right.”

She grinned at him. “Didn’t need the stamp of approval, but I like it anyway.” She moved forward then, after a pause, wrapped him in a hug. “You’re a good guy, Zeke. Don’t forget it. And don’t be afraid to grovel.” She pulled back, slapped his arm. “I like what little I’ve seen of her.”

She opened her truck door. This grown woman with a settled, full life that made her happy. And she’d done that mostly on her own.

“Proud of you, Car.”

She hesitated only a moment before she climbed the rest of the way into her driver’s seat. “Then make me proud of you, Zeke,” she returned before closing the door and driving away.

Zeke blew out a breath. Now he just had to figure outhow.

Love.

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