Page 34 of Tanner

“What?” she asked, wide-eyed and innocent in the way kids got when they knew exactly what they were doing.

Miles scratched his jaw, and Tanner could tell he was trying not to smile. “That depends.”

“On what?” Savannah asked.

“On your brother.”

Tanner stared at a shelf full of cereal boxes and wished he’d chosen any other aisle that didn’t have a certain hot deputy in it. “You’re working.”

“Till eight.”

Tanner said nothing and Miles waited him out.

Savannah leaned back against the seat. “Come over.”

Tanner let out a breath. “You don’t invite people to the house.”

“Why?”

Tanner didn’t say what he was thinking. Because once somebody was in your space, they saw things you didn’t want them to. “Because that’s rude.”

Miles shifted the basket in his hand. “I can ignore the invitation. No harm done.”

Tanner glanced at him. Miles looked calm, but there was a question under it. A real one. This one was personal, and that felt worse. He heard himself say, “If you want to come by later, come by later.”

Miles’ expression changed a fraction. Not by much, but Tanner caught it. “After Savannah’s asleep?” Miles asked.

“Yeah.” Tanner swallowed seeing Miles’ eyes drop to his lips then back up again.

Miles held his gaze for a second, then said, “All right.”

Savannah beamed. “You have dinner.”

“Don’t promise people food I haven’t bought yet.”

Miles chuckled softly. “I’ll take my chances.”

He moved on after that because he had to, and Tanner finished shopping with his pulse still a little unsteady. At checkout, he caught himself looking toward the front windows, half expecting Miles to still be there.

Back home, Tanner unpacked groceries while Savannah sat at the table and drew with a stubby blue crayon. The house stayed quiet except for the scrape of chair legs and the hum of the fridge. He kept moving because stopping would mean thinking too much. He put the milk away, lined cans in the cupboard, and stood for a moment with his hand on the pantry shelf.

He had invited Miles over. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. All he knew was he didn’t want to go another week without seeing him.

Savannah chattered through dinner, then through bath time, then through two books and a drink of water and one more trip to the bathroom. By the time she finally settled, Tanner felt wrung out. He stood in the doorway of her room until her breathing evened out, then pulled the door almost closed and went back downstairs.

He cleaned the kitchen that didn’t need cleaning. Wiped the counters. Checked the lock on the back door. Picked up Savannah’s stuffed rabbit from the floor and put it on the couch. At twenty past eight there were headlights outside.

Tanner stood still for a second before he crossed the room and opened the door.

Miles was out of uniform this time. Jeans, dark T-shirt, jacket unzipped. He looked broader, less official, and Tanner couldn’t help but look at him. Tight thighs and nice shoulders he’d seen naked flashed in his memory, and he pushed it to one side.

Miles held up a paper bag. “I brought pie.”

Tanner stared at it. “Why?”

“Because I stopped at the diner and figured it would be nice to share.”

“Oh.” Tanner nodded because he didn’t know what to say.