Page 283 of Come Back to Me

“I mean, she’s never going to be... the type of woman who appreciates the regular things in life,” I answer cautiously.

“No, she’s the opposite of traditional.”

“And you think I want that?”

“I think it’s taken her this long to tell her mother. I think that she wanted to keep you a secret. I don’t know why she’d want that if you?—”

Ah.

“I don’t want her to be anything other than what she is. I didn’t ask her to keep anything a secret. She wanted that.”

“Then maybe you should ask yourself why that is. If you have feelings for her.”

“Of course I do!” Gritting my teeth, I admit, “Yesterday, I half-thought she was breaking up with me?—”

“She’s head over heels for you! Honestly, kids today are idiots. God help me. If I didn’t want to stick around to see what kind of baby Mozart Tee creates, I’d be praying for pneumonia to set in! You all try the patience of a saint.

“Of courseshe loves you.Of courseyou love her?—”

“That isn’t news to me. We shared the…” I grimace as I catch Colt’s very interested eye. “…sentiment a while back.”

“Then, what’s the issue?” She mutters something in Italian. “Tell her that I expect you both here for lunch when she’s back and that we’ll be having a family dinner sooner rather than later—no getting out of it. It’s about damn time you were introduced to the family as more than just the local marshal.”

I blink as she puts the phone down.

“Damn MacFarlane women,” I grumble, especially as the picture Tee picked for my wallpaper flashes up to tease me—her with her hands between her legs, spreading her pussy lips apart.

When Tee picked that one, I’d almost had a heart attack.

“Who was that?” Colt asks, sounding closer than before.

“Nobody.” I shove my phone into my pocket, making sure he can’t see the screen.

“Didn’t sound like nobody.”

When my work cell buzzes, this time itisReilly. “Are you goddamn lost again?” I snarl, patience on as short a leash as Tee’s Nonna’s. “Look, wait where you are. Send me your location and I’ll bring you over here. Goddammit, I have to do everything around this fucking place.”

Storming over to my truck, I tuck my cell onto the dash and head off.

But as annoying as Reilly’s incompetence is, as sad as the discovery of the body is, my mind’s fixated on one problem:

Tee MacFarlane.

And as of five seconds ago, I still don’t have a solution.

Cody

Idon’t want to admit that I’m disgustingly clammy when I shuttle down the family’s private runway in our plane. Nape, forehead, hands—all sticky with cold sweat.

Yet each step is instinctive to me. The equipment might be different than a fighter jet’s, but my fingers know where to settle, my eyes flickering over the dash, hands working to get me airborne, my whole body at ease in this setting.

It’s just my brain that isn’t.

Cracking my neck, I refuse to think about that day when my love for flying turned to dread.

But because brains are whacked, as I pull off the runway, the air currents rejecting the plane’s intrusion into its medium, I think about Ricky.

Paulie.

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