Page 56 of Five Stolen Rings

Jack holds out his hand, and I take it, holding on tight to balance while I get my leg back in and then deposit both of my feet firmly on the bedroom floor.

“Thank you,” I say, out of breath. There’s a grumpy ache in my lower back; I rub it, wincing, and then make myself look at Jack. “I woke up in your bed and sort of freaked out.”

“Mm-hmm,” he says, looking amused. “And you thought you could go out through the window.”

“So I wouldn’t have to see you,” I clarify.

He folds his arms and leans against the wall by the window, his head tilted, his eyes sparkling. “But you left a note…?”

“It seemed rude not to thank you for taking me home when I was—you know.” I clear my throat. “Drunk.”

At this, his little smile fades, and worry pulls his lips intoa concerned frown. “Yeah. You were pretty wasted.” He eases his expression into something more casual, but it doesn’t quite match the worry still in his eyes. “Uh, do you remember much?”

“Some,” I admit. “But not everything. I remember you came to get me, and Benny was there? And I’m pretty sure I cried a lot.”

“That’s it?” he says, his voice strangely insistent.

“I think so,” I say slowly. “Why? Did something happen?”

Oh no. Did I kiss him or something?

But he shakes his head. “No,” he says, sounding relieved. “Nothing.” He pauses. “I do need to tell you something, though.”

“What?” I say. He looks so serious that I find myself suddenly as nervous as he seems.

He inhales deeply, studying me like he’s hesitant, and then nods. “I saw you,” he says. “At the church. Coming out of—” He breaks off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Coming out of the AA meeting,” he finally says, shooting me an apologetic look.

And for several long seconds, all I can do is stare at him.

“You…saw me,” I say slowly, stupidly, as I rack my memory. “At the AA meeting…oh.” My eyes widen, and I snap. “You were the guy who passed me in the hall! Right? Was that you?”

He sighs. “Yeah. I didn’t realize it was actually you until I learned you were back in town. But you drank a lot earlier. And your recovery is your business,” he adds, holding up his hands. “But…I have access to a lot of great resources if you need help.”

Something giddy rises in my stomach—somethingabsurdly, ridiculously like laughter. “So let me get this straight,” I say as the truth of the situation hits me, because I remember his strange questions about the Christmas party, the ones that didn’t make sense. “You’re worried…because you think I’m a recovering alcoholic. And I was drunk earlier. So naturally a relapse is possible.”

The concern on his face shifts into something like confusion. “I—yes,” he says, his voice halting. “Is that—” He breaks off, frowning as his eyes narrow. “Hang on. What’s going on here?”

“I waslost,” I say, my smile finally breaking free. The cold, crisp air continues to seep into the room through the open window next to us, but I barely notice. “In the basement of the church. I went into the wrong room and realized it wasn’t where I was supposed to be, so I booked it out of there.”

He just looks at me for a second, his dark eyes widening, his stupidly perfect jaw gaping.

And then he throws his head back and laughs.

He laughs louder and freer than I’ve seen in many, many years, and it’s an incredible sound—one that warms me despite the bite of the winter evening outside. He wipes actual tears of mirth from his eyes, and it takes him a good thirty seconds to calm down.

Then he looks at me, a little smile still playing on his lips, his gaze still alight with humor. “Delightful,” he murmurs.

Something flutters in my chest, tiny bubbles of…something.I swallow those feelings and look away, resisting the urge to press my hands to my cheeks so they’ll cool down.

“You said I was beautiful, and now I’m delightful too?” I say lightly. “I’m flattered.”

I see his smile fade in the corner of my eye,and when I glance back at him, some of the humor is gone from his gaze, too.

“Don’t be,” he says in a dry voice. “I already told you you wouldn’t get special treatment just because you’re pretty.”

“Mmm,” I say, nodding slowly. “You’re surrounded by pretty women every day, I imagine. A bunch of cute little nurses in their cute little scrubs.”

“Sure am. Madge is especially adorable.” He cocks one brow at me. “Why? Feeling jealous?”

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