Page 85 of Truth, Lies, and Second Dates
“Ava.” He slipped his hands under her shirt, up her back, cupped the smooth warm flesh of her shoulder blades. “I have to tell you something about myself.”
“Are you the killer?”
“No.”
“The vandal?”
“No. I don’t know why anyone vandalizes. So inefficient.”
“Planning to kill, fold, spindle, or maim me?”
“Never.”
“Do you have a secret family in Canada?”
“Not anymore.”
“Don’t care, then. More kissing, please.”
He obliged, to their mutual delight.
Forty-Two
THE LIST
Bottle Tom’s kisses somehow, market to public, make fortune
Moisturizer [sigh]
Corner Becka like a rat and wring a confession out of her
Or clear her
More kissing
She’d just finished shrugging into her sleuthing outfit (tan shorts, red sleeveless blouse, black flats, frizz going every which way becausearghhumidity) when she heard a brisk knock.
Excellent! And right on time, which came as no surprise. She darted across the room and checked the peephole. Nothing.
Disappointing.
She looked again.
Nope.
So she opened the door and craned her neck to check the—
“Are you trying to be the sacrificial lamb?”
“Ack!”
Tom frowned and shouldered his way past her into the room. “I cannot believe you opened the door.”
“It’s kind of necessary, since I don’t actually live here and need to periodically emerge for moisturizer and airport runs and sleuthing. And you said you’d be right back!”
He’d spent the night, at his insistence; she’d let him talk her into it. Something-something danger, something-something not taking any chances with her safety, etcetera. They had another smoking snogging session, then slept apart, her in the king-size in the bedroom, him on the foldout in the small sitting room. She’d regaled him with more Hazelden/airline mishaps; he’d talked about his work, his pride in and worry for Hannah, his friendship with Abe. They’d commiserated over dead loved ones. Probably no one’s ideal of a first date—if that’s what it was—but it worked for them.
Tom, meanwhile, was still standing with his arms folded across his chest, frowning. “Even if the killer is not affiliated with Becka, he’s fixated onyou, Ava. What you just did is incredibly reckless.”
