Page 73 of Capture My Heart

“Yes, garlic stuffed olives.”

“But we still don’t know if he’s a cop or not.” Amy had a gut feeling that he was. Once he made a copy of the lot keys and got in, he’d need the car keys. Modern vehicles are designed with antitheft in mind making it virtually impossible to hotwire.

Trey touched his jaw.

“That’s going to swell. You should put some ice on that soon.”

His gaze dropped to her wet shirt clinging to her chest. His voice dropped. “You should get out of that shirt as well.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”

He laughed then groaned.

Yup, he would be hurting later.

Standing outside their apartment doors, Trey cleared his throat.

Amy turned and raised a brow. “Yes?”

He let his eyes drift to her wet tee and back to the dark red bruise blooming on her cheek. “You good?”

Her lip hitched up. “Yeah, nothing a hot shower and ice pack can’t fix.” She gestured to his face. “You could use one as well.”

He nodded.

“I’m gonna grab a quick shower and change then I’ll be over.”

He’d forgotten about dinner and a sting. With a nod, she slipped inside and closed her door.

Trey blinked a couple times. Amy was unlike any woman he knew. He didn’t know what to think. With one last look, he slipped inside.

He grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and held them to his jaw. He hissed.

He’d say one thing for good old Ernie, the guy had a wicked right hook.

The couch groaned as he flopped down. Or was that him?

Today had been crazy. His eyes closed and the events of the day played in technicolor behind his eyelids. Right then, he decided, no Gardiner’s tonight. He’d had enough of them for now and needed a break. Amy did too, even if she didn’t realize it.

One good thing came out of all this. He was ninety-nine percent sure he could scratch Officer Larson off the corruption suspect list. The woman was driven by truth. And with what he’d seen this week, no way she’d take a bribe. She didn’t need the money and lived well below her means. Hell, the only good piece of furniture she owned was her couch. Well, before it was trashed.

He had searched for a replacement but couldn’t find a match. Just as well. He needed to squash this urge to fix things for her.

He grabbed his laptop and dropped back to the couch. He opened the Ashwood file and double-checked times on the email logs from the night of Finden’s murder.

A few minutes later, he closed his computer, threw the peas back in the freezer, and started some dinner.

A soft knock sounded and Stinky waddled to the door, most likely looking for treats.

“It’s open.” Trey hollered from the kitchen.

“Hey, Stinky. Sorry, I didn’t bring you a treat.”

“He doesn’t need one.” Trey flipped him a carrot as he cut up the salad fixings.

“No, of course not.” A smile played at her lips as she grabbed another carrot and slipped it to his skunk. “How’s your face?”

“I’ll survive. Yours?” He checked out her cheek in the light. No major swelling. That was good.