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After I hung up, I sat there in the quiet kitchen for a long time.

The Pacific Rim director's name was sitting in Code's files, connected to a paper trail that Nash Rivers was currently pulling apart. Harvey was holding. The project was intact.

It wasn't enough.

They could have burned a man alive. They had made a calculation about what decent people in a small town would and would not endure. I was positive it didn't end with the director either. The question was, would Pacific Rim cut their losses and move onto an easier target, or continue what they started.

The Ankylosaurus sat on the counter where James had left it.

Armored. Immovable. Completely unbothered by anything the world wanted to throw at it.

It was time to focus on what was really important.

My son in his racecar bed upstairs, and a snarky, beautiful woman who wanted me to lean on her.

A woman who’d told me she loved me.

Chapter Thirty-One

I stuffed my laptop into my oversized bag, grabbed my ucky green smoothie that I forced myself to drink once a month, and bolted to the front door, where my overnight bag sat. I picked it up. I was running late. I turned the handle and nothing happened.

What the hell?

I turned it again.

Oh yeah, it was locked. I’d promised. I unlocked the door. Stepped out into a gorgeous May afternoon and locked the door and pocketed my keys, then bolted to my Jeep. I was working the late shift, after having done nothing but fucking spreadsheets last night and this morning.

Please say the latest shipment from Clarksville has come in, and Ernie has kept his grubby hands off it. I deserved a treat.

Ernie was practically panting at the door when I got there. “Are you good to close tonight?”

“Of course I am. What’s gotten into you? A hot date?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’m going out with Ann Nichols over in Knoxville. She works at the flower shop.”

“Oh, I know her. She’s really nice.”

“I know. So get your ass in here, so I can go.” I laughed and kissed him on the cheek, and watched him jog out to his truck. He might have green hair, but he was a Southern boy through and through.

Behind the register were six big boxes. Unopened. From Clarksville.

Yay me!

I immediately started opening and doing inventory. I loved the stuff that I got from Nancy. She made the cutest stuffed animals and dolls for newborns and children under the age of five. I’d given one of her giraffes and a monkey to Olivia already and wanted to add to the collection. Nancy never told me what to price them for. Hell, she never told me what to pay her. She just sent it all to me and trusted me to get her good prices.

These people. I loved them all.

At six-fifty-five, the door chimed. That was always a guarantee—every store owner would tell you that. What’s more, they were always someone who would stay for a half hour, and never buy a damn thing.

Still.

“Can I help you?” I asked the man.

“Oh, I’m just here to browse.”

“Well, let me know if you have any questions. I handle most of the inventory, so I know most of the product.”

He turned to me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”