Page 52 of Where the Little Birds Go (Little Bird Duet 1)

He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right.”

After a few more minutes, we slow down near a lit-up drugstore. He pulls into the parking lot and shuts off the car. His body turns to mine as he grabs something from the back.

“Ready?” Pulling a baseball cap onto his head to cover his dark hair, he smiles.

“You need a fake mustache too?”

He rolls his eyes and pulls sunglasses from a little compartment above the rearview mirror that I didn’t see before. “You joke, but you’ll see why it’s important.”

“You’re kidding right?”

The shades cover his eyes. “Nope.”

Opening his door, he nods his head. “Are you coming? You need some Motrin, don’t you? I could grab a few things too while we’re out.”

My hand stalls on the lever of the door, watching him warily. “Why are you doing this? Trying so hard?”

His response is instant. “Because you deserve it.”

I swallow and open the door, absentmindedly following him inside. His palm lightly rests on the small of my back as we walk to the aisle we need.

There are only a few people in the store, which doesn’t surprise me since it’s going on midnight. According to the sign in the glass door, they’re open twenty-four-seven. I suppose given the demographic, it’s probably a good thing.

Corbin picks up a bottle and shakes it. “Is this going to work, or do you need a bigger one?”

“That’ll work.”

He keeps hold of it and continues walking down the aisle until his eyes scan the new one he wants. When I notice the candy along the shelves, I roll my eyes.

“Isn’t it a bit late for candy?”

His gasp is amusing and overdone. “I seem to recall a girl who informed me that there’s never a bad time for candy.”

Pretty sure the time he’s referring to is the same night I ate way too much sugar and puked my guts out. Corbin had to hold my hair back and find a store that was still open to get me ginger ale and anti-nausea medicine so my stomach would settle.

“Pick your poison.” He already has our normal in his hand, but my eye goes to the peanut butter cups that’s in front of me.

“I’m paying for my own stuff.”

“Mmhmm.”

I eye him. “Don’t be stupid.”

He just winks.

We walk further down the aisle. “So, you don’t have things to do other than lurk outside my hotel building in the middle of the night? Seems awfully similar to a guy I used to know that creeped outside of restaurants after dark.”

“Weird coincidence,” he remarks. “I normally go to bed after I get home, but we have the weekend off. Gives me time to get out.”

“And lurk?”

He eyes me. “I like to think of it as helping people in need.”

Wow. “So charitable these days.”

As we enter another aisle, a younger woman who’s carrying a red basket stops in the middle and stares in our direction. Corbin reaches for something in the clearance section without noticing, but I can’t help but watch the blonde woman’s lips part. He takes his glasses off and squints at the device hanging on the rack.

“Uh…” I tap Corbin’s shoulder.

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