Page 40 of Hot Under the Collar

“We’re in this together,” he reminded her. “Whatever happens tonight, you’re not alone.”

Something in Lynne cracked at that. Her blue eyes caught his, and for a moment, he noticed her lashes, the way her mouth parted, before the tears started to well at the corners.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. Leo’s hand tightened around hers.

“For Twig?” he asked gently.

“Of all of it,” she confessed. “I miss him. I miss my dad, Leo. I miss him so much it feels like, if I stop moving for too long, I might stop breathing. I hated the idea of falling apart after Dad died, the idea of people watching me shatter. So I just … didn’t. At least not around anyone but you. But I keep that smelly jacket of his by the door and his pills in the cabinet and that old jukebox with the songs he loved because those are the only pieces of him left, you know?” The first tear finally slipped free. “I’m so tired of having to be strong.”

“Lynne…” Leo stepped in and pulled her fully into his arms, her forehead to his chest. She melted into him, and they stood there for a moment, her crying, breath in sync, surrounded by the small sounds of the clock, Fred’s snoring, and scratches against the sides of the litter box in the guest room. “You don’t have to be strong with me,” he murmured into her hair. “Not about him. Not about any of it.”

She paused to wipe away her tears. “Thanks for being here. Again, Leo. I don’t think I’d want to go through this hell with anyone else.”

They moved quietly back to the guest room and started the care plan—preparing tiny supplement smears, checking the temp, and readying the bottle in case Twig was interested. The dark, early morning found them half-dozing, half-watching Twig as they propped their backs against the guest bed. Shoulders and elbows and hands touching until their next alarm went off.

17

Leo (Last Year)

Twenty-five years old, but Leo felt older somehow as the crowd began to thin out at O’Donnell’s. His fingers danced along the top of the maraschino cherry jar Lynne had given to him an hour ago. All that remained of his friends and the book club members who came to celebrate his birthday were Cali and Tabitha. And Tabitha was off flirting with a guy dressed in a military uniform.

Leo’s gaze followed Lynne around the room until she glanced over her shoulder and smirked. When he turned back around, Cali was eyeing him, her brow crinkled above her glasses.

“What?” he asked sheepishly. He tried to hide his face under the brim of his cowboy hat.

Cali stared him down as she took another sip of her drink. “You’d consider us friends. Right, Leo?”

“Of course,” he offered. But he cleared his throat, dread settling heavy inside him.

“Then can I be candid with you?”

Cali’s eyes were a little glassy, her cheeks flushed from the cranberry vodkas she’d been drinking. They’d only known each other since Cali started the book club at the library. But he’d known her long enough to know her expression meant no good. She’d been reading him like one of their book club picks, and now she was ready to share her analysis.

“I think you, Leo March—” she poked a finger into the arm of his flannel shirt as she spoke, “have it bad for Lynne O’Donnell.”

He grinned, caught but not mad about it. “Is that so, Detective Jacobs?”

“Yep.” She nodded. “And I think Lynne O’Donnell has it bad for you.”

Now she’d piqued his interest. “What makes you so sure about that?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. “Every time you two are near each other, the air turns … electric. Everyone with eyes can see it.” She lowered her voice and leaned in to whisper under his hat brim. “But what I want to know is why you’re not doing anything about it.”

Cali might have been a clever interrogator, even when tipsy, but he wasn’t confessing the truth to anyone tonight. Not after he’d kept his and Lynne’s one-night stand a secret for so long. Not after he’d worked so hard this past year for Lynne’s friendship. But he could give her just enough to satisfy her curiosity and get her off the scent.

“Well,” he sighed. “Are you sitting down for this one? Because it’s a doozy.”

Cali wobbled on her barstool with excitement, eyes growing wide. “Ooh. Gossip!”

“That woman over there,” Leo said, pointing at Lynne while her back was turned to them, “used to be my babysitter. And she and my brother, Mike, were high school sweethearts.”

“Scandalous,” Cali whisper-gasped. But he could tell she was more amused than repulsed. After a few more beats, she pushed her drink aside. “I still think you should go for it, Leo. In the words of Emily Dickinson, ‘the heart wants what it wants.’”

“Wise woman,” he said.

“The wisest. I just wish I had someone who looked at me the way you two have been looking at each other all night.” She sighed and dipped a hand into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call a cab. It’s way past my bedtime, and I’ve had too much to drink.” She stood and offered Leo a big hug.

“See you at book club next week, Cali.”