“Of course, I’ve been waiting for you to pull the trigger and get on with it for years. I was determined to pull off the one-bed trope for you.”
I launch a pillow at her, and with the skill of a senior college student, she manages to move her drink out of the way without spilling a drop. She played the long game on this one, taking eight years for Jonesy and me to find our way to each other when he returned from overseas, and he’s been sleeping across the hall from me once a month.
“I cannot believe you’ve been pushing for this.”
“Katie, come on. If you had even shown any inkling that you were interested in another man in the last fifteen years, I would have bought Jonesy a proper bed to sleep on. But as it happens, you two have been obsessed with each other for years. I’m actually surprised it took this long.”
I love that she did this. She lacks boundaries. Last year, pushing Alfie to admit his true feelings for Mia when he asked her to help him crash her date, and now this.
I shrug. “I don’t think we were ready before. It’s like he snuck into my bed at exactly the right time. Exactly when I would need him. It’s kind of like the universe pushed him to me.”
“Yeah...the universe.” Her cheeks pinken asshe looks anywhere except my face.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing, I swear.”
She hides her face with her wineglass, taking a larger gulp than necessary.
“Charlotte Buckingham. What did you do?” I screech, my heart racing in my chest.
“Okay, but you have to promise you won’t tell Jonesy.”
“I can’t promise that.” Not when the man turns me into putty every time he takes his shirt off. I bite my lip just thinking about it. Maybe I’ll make him work for it tonight.
“God, if the you from a month ago could see you now, she’d slap you.” Lottie laughs, deflecting.
“Ha. I’d literally hate myself, but I am concerningly happy right now. He even helped me finish my living room so I have a place to hang out after work, and honestly, Lottie, it’s unbelievable. I really think I love him.”
I launch myself back into the couch cushions, letting my head hang off the couch.
“Oh God, he keeps dickmatizing me. What did you do?”
“Okay, well, don’t be mad, but I may have swapped out the old camp cot for a child-sized one. I knew it would get him into your room and, therefore, into your bed. Please don’t hate me!”
I watch her lips pull back into a grimace, as if she’s waiting for the next onslaught of pillows,but I find myself happy.
Lottie freaking Buckingham is such a meddler. Whether she wants to admit it or not, the women in her family rubbed off on her a little, despite the fact that she turned her back on the family tradition of becoming a “lady of the house” or whatever it is her foremothers did.
“You owe me,” I warn, pointing a finger at her.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll help you plan the wedding of the century and the best bachelorette party that’s ever been.”
“I think it’s a little soon for that,” I scoff.
She shrugs as if she knows something I don’t, but changes tack.
“So how is the current investigation now that creepy Thomas is being dealt with?”
“It’s a tough one. I’m glad Jonesy has been here to help me. He’s been a real support. But there’s something we’re both missing, and I can’t put my finger on what it is.”
“You don’t think the Maddox guy from the news did it?”
I think about the answer on the tip of my tongue. My gut feeling is screaming at me, but it doesn’t explain why. “No, I don’t.”
I explain about the evidence going missing, the character witnesses we spoke to, and how even in the interviews, Connor Maddox had looked so frightened. It was as if he reverted to being fifteen, lashing out when he wasquestioned, devastated that his girlfriend might leave him. Lottie nods thoughtfully along, her psychologist brain unraveling all the threads of this case, just as I’ve tried to.
“And Jonesy’s boss is a bit odd. He keeps trying to bring the case under military control, and he’s threatened to move Jonesy to the East Coast.”
