Page 66 of Sterling Stone

“Almost?” I arch a brow. While I wasn’t intending this spot to be romantic, I wasn’t not intending it to be romantic either. I just want to give her some time outside of that hospital room and Trudy’s home.

We take a seat, and I remove items from the basket. Two thickly layered sandwiches, mini bags of potato chips, and two whole pickles, plus bottled water.

“You make a mean sandwich,” she teases, reminding me I made her one that first night. Every other night since then, we’ve eaten at the hospital or hit a drive-thru on our way back to Sterling Falls.

“Make a decent burger, too.” I pause a second. “You should come to dinner at my place this Sunday. Judd’s gonna bring Simon. The whole family will be getting together.”

Taxi watches me as I hold up two small chip bags, letting her pick which flavor she wants.

“Sounds like a special occasion, I don’t want to intrude,” she states.

“No special occasion. Just a Sunday.” I hand her the bag she selected, after I’ve opened it for her. “When my siblings were younger, I made Sundays a mandatory day to check in with everyone. Who had what, when, and who needed what.”

I open my own bag of chips and pop one in my mouth.

“Ever the caregiver,” she teases.

I shrug. “Something like that.” I squint at the river. “Family is important to me. My mama wouldn’t have wanted us to fall apart, and I’m the eldest.”

I’ve tried to make her proud, even if she wasn’t here to see me.

Taxi lowers her chip bag and stares into it. “I get that. Even though Trudy was present, I always worried about Sedona and Jolene. Especially Jolene. She’s the wild one of us three.”

I chuckle softly, knowing exactly what she means. “Sebastian was the wild one in our bunch. It’s always the youngest.” I shake my head, provoking a smile from Taxi.

Flipping my phone, I note the time. “Okay. No serious stuff. We only have forty-seven minutes. Tell me something fun.”

Taxi laughs, the sound light and musical. “Like what?”

“You like to paint. Do you have a favorite color?”

“Blue,” she whispers, and I glance up at her, meeting her eyes. “There’s comfort in blue.”

With her gaze locked on my eyes, I don’t want to read more into her color explanation.

“But is that your favorite?” I lean toward her, teasing.

“I like violet. Well, more like periwinkle.” Her mouth slowly curls like just saying the word brings her happiness.

“And what color is that?” I ask curiously before popping another chip in my mouth.

“It’s blue and white, making almost a lavender, but not quite. It’s kind of rare and not really found in nature,” she explains.

“Sounds pretty.”

Taxi chuckles. “No offense, but I’m not certain you understand pretty colors. Let me guess your favorite. Beige.”

She eyes my uniform shirt.

“Don’t have much of a choice.” Sheriff’s department standard issue here.

“But even when you wear street clothes, you still wear beige.” She grins, lips spreading wide.

“Well, I guess, I like beige. It’s . . . comforting.” I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess I just like the color. As she continues to stare at my uniform, an unease washes over me. I suppose my uniform isn’t comforting for her, and suddenly, I’m second-guessing our current position, dressed as I am.

“Can I wear your badge?” she asks next, startling me.

“Um, no. But I can get you one of your own.”