Page 20 of Jolene's Justice

She was lost in guilt, pulling on a strand of hair that hung over her shoulder from her ponytail and chewing on her lip.

“Jolie,” he tried to interject while wiping the last of the water from his face. He couldn’t do anything about his damp shirt at this point. Stopping Jolene’s spiral was more important.

“And look at this place,” she continued, ignoring his interruption. “It’s a mess.” His eyes darted to the drops of water on the counter and floor, and tension built in his chest.

“Look at this mess,” Angelica shrieked. “I swear. It’s like living with Pigpen. Can you do anything right?” With a sudden movement, Angelica grabbed a dishtowel and whipped it at him. “Make yourself useful for once. Clean up those spots.” Finch bit his tongue, refraining pointing out that the water spots on the coffee table came from her glass in order to avoid irritating her. That never went over well for him.

He rushed to wipe the kitchen counter and floor as he heard Angelica’s voice in his head. He could feel Jolene’s eyes on him but couldn’t help himself.Fuck. Would that woman’s voice ever leave his head?

After making sure the water was mopped up, he slowly rose to his feet, ignoring the questioning look from Jolene. “We’ll get things sorted out for him,” he said as he meticulously folded the dishtowel and set it on the counter. He adjusted it until it was perfectly aligned with the sink, and his shoulders immediately relaxed.

Once he felt like he could breathe again, he met Jolene’s gaze and stifled a curse. Her eyes flicked between him and the dishtowel as she regarded him with curiosity. He prayed she would overlook what he had just done. With a miniscule movement, he shifted the dishtowel, unable to stop himself.

Jolene’s lips twitched in amusement, then she shrugged. “I know we’ll get it all cleaned up, but it never should have gotten like this in the first place. The least I could have done was hire a cleaning crew or something. Maybe had one of those mail order food delivery boxes sent to him.”

“You could do all that moving forward,” Finch suggested.

“But who am I kidding? He won’t accept that type of help. He’ll probably be pissed at the work I want to do here before we leave. He’s such a crabbit.”

Finch tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to comprehend the unfamiliar word. “A what?”

“Crabbit. It means a grumpy or ill-tempered person. He’s a crabbit and a stubborn old goat.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s going to undo everything we fix.”

Jolene scoffed. “He might. He’s that set in his ways.”

Finch put his hands on her shoulders to stop her anxious pacing. “Let’s not borrow trouble. We’ll do the repairs and clean up to make it a safe place for your dad to come home to. Then we’ll see what happens.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. It needs to be done.”

“As for the rest of that little freak-out you just had—”

“I didn’t have a freak-out,” she insisted, cutting him off mid sentence. One of his eyebrows arched in a challenge. She huffed out a breath in annoyance. “Fine. I had a momentary lapse, but I’m fine now.”

His lips twitched, betraying the smile he was trying to suppress. “As I was saying, the rest of that stuff you said will work itself out, too.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she admitted grudgingly.

“Darn tootin’.”

Another laugh burst from her. “You’re a loon.”

“I can accept that moniker.” The overexaggerated way she rolled her eyes amused him. He’d missed this. The easy camaraderie they’d always had. Though he enjoyed the banter with his fellow Nighthawks, there was a certain spark that came with the back-and-forth between two people with a mutual attraction.

As if she’d just been doused with cold water, her expression shuttered, and she stepped out of his grasp. He attempted to hide the pain caused by her withdrawal, but it cut him deeply, nonetheless.

Moving to the coffeepot, she grabbed the mug he’d left out for her and poured herself a cup, adding a couple of spoonfuls of sugar. After taking a sip, she faced him once more, her expression devoid of emotion, as if the laughter they had just shared never happened.

“What were you saying about the food?” she asked.

“Just that if we want something for breakfast, it’s probably best that we go out. Then we should probably stop at the store if we want more than soup to eat while we’re here.”

“Yeah, good idea. We can go to the diner, then visit dad. I need to talk to his doctor again. Then we can go to the store. We’re going to need cleaning supplies, too.”

“Sounds like a plan. You ready to go now?”

“Don’t you want to change your shirt?”

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