Page 33 of Love Me Fierce

I’m getting pretty good at reading her little tells, and the way her shoulders jerk when I ask a question she doesn’t want to answer is one of them. “Just looking for information.”

“Dr. Boone was in a few weeks ago, covering for Ava.”

I look away from where Vivian and Mateo are bouncing around on the trampoline together, laughing. “Don’t tell me he’s a jerk to her too?”

Dr. Boone made a few borderline bigoted comments to Sepp back when they worked together. Sepp brushed it off because it was never overt, and Dr. Boone was on his way to retirement.

“He stares at her ass.” He swallows another bite of watermelon.

I grip the railing. “Has he touched her?”

“No, and I’d jump his shit if he did.”

Maybe I need to pay Dr. Boone a visit. Though it’s doubtful I could be objective given this new intel.

Fuck.

I take a bite of watermelon, leaning out so the juice drops to the deck and not on my shirt. Try as I might, I can’t picture Dr. Boone slicing open Vivian’s couch cushions and squeezing out her toothpaste tube and conditioner. There’s something else going on here.

“Who’s her ex? Is he in the picture?”

“She never talks about him.”

Never? I watch Vivian help Mateo out of the trampoline. “Why not?”

Sepp gives me a shrewd glance. “I don’t know, and I don’t pry.”

I read his subtext loud and clear, but it’s my job to pry. “She needs to trust someone.”

“And that someone is you, huh?”

“Why not me?” It comes out heated, and I grimace. It’s a goodthing I’m not having this convo with Linden, because he’d put me in a headlock.Repeat after me, bro: not all drowning kittens need saving.

Sepp points his rind at me. “Stand down, Ev. I mean it. You don’t know what she needs.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Though I want to, despite all the warnings.

With a huff, Sepp sets his rind on the platter and heads down to the grass.

Chapter Ten

VIVIAN

Though playingoutside with Mateo helps settle my nerves, the questions continue to unspool inside my mind. Will I be able to return to the Meadows? Do I even want to given how easily someone broke in? But if I decide to move, where would we go? I have renter’s insurance, but filing a claim isn’t exactly easy, and it won’t cover everything. There are several lengthy forms to fill out, the cataloguing of damaged items to make, and I need a police report. Which I’ll have to get from Everett.

When we stampede inside for dinner, a tall, slender man in his seventies wearing faded jeans and a Western-style shirt with pearl snap buttons is standing in the middle of the living room. He’s holding the remote to the television like we’ve interrupted him flipping channels, but he turns it off and reaches for my hand, a soft smile on his lips.

“Hey there, you must be Vivian. I’m Nelson.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” I say as he places his other hand on top of mine, his big palms calloused, and gentle.

“Likewise.” He squats down as Mateo hurries in after me. “Hey pardner, whatcha got there?”

Mateo thrusts the fat grasshopper he’s pinching in his fingers toward him. “I caught him!”

“Whoa, you must be fast. I think we got a jar here somewhere. You want to make him a home?”

“Yes!” Mateo hurries to follow Nelson into the kitchen.

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