Page 51
While she packs a small overnight bag, her phone buzzes. She glances at it, then puts it face down on the counter. Though a frown now rests on her lips.
“Everything okay?”
“It’s my friend Alfred,” she says. “He always checks in on me in the evenings. He’ll worry if I tell him what happened, so I didn’t.”
“What if he sees it on the news?”
“Oh, he’s not on the internet. He’s eighty.”
“What about the news news? You know, like on TV?”
She offers a wry grin. “He listens to the radio.”
“Old-school,” I say, grinning right along with her. “I dig it.”
She smiles. “He’s the best. But I don’t need him taking care of me. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to get him all worried about what happened today.”
Caring. Compassionate under duress. Accepting even when she should be judgmental.
Ah, yes, all the calling cards of a gunrunning criminal enterprise.
The more I get to know about this woman, the less and less I’m liking this bit.
Teeny packs a bag filled with toiletries and such, and we head back to my condo. She looks visibly drained when we walk through the door, but she doesn’t hesitate to set up camp on my couch. I offer my bed again, but she refuses.
“Nope.” She shakes her head and plops down onto my couch. “I’m sleeping right here.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods.
I breathe out a sigh, wishing I could change her mind. It doesn’t feel right having her sleep on my couch while I’m in a bed, but she’s clearly determined to see her decision through when she lies down on the couch and tucks one of three small throw pillows under her head.
“Hold on. Let me grab you a blanket and a pillow that’s not going to cause a kink in your neck.” I walk into my bedroom, snag the big quilt off my bed, and grab two pillows.
Thankfully, she takes them with a smile.
After she settles, I linger a moment, watching her adjust the blanket, then catch myself and start backing up toward my bedroom door. “If you need anything . . . water, more pizza, anything at all . . . just yell.”
“Thanks, Shane,” she says, voice quieter now. “For . . . you know. Everything.”
“It’s no big thing.” I wave a hand. “That’s what neighbors . . . and friends . . . are for, right?”
She surprises me by standing up and moving toward me in three quick strides. I rock back on a foot as she just pulls me into a tight hug, her petite hands clutching at my shoulders. My hands hover for a measly second and a half before squeezing gently back.
“Seriously. Thank you,” she whispers into my ear. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you for what you did for me, but thank you, Shane. Just . . . thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I lean back to look into the depths of her ocean-blue eyes. “Now, how about you get some rest, yeah?”
She nods and smiles and heads back over to the couch. “Night, Shane.”
“Good night, Teeny.”
“Thanks again for saving my life, Superman!”
I laugh. “Anytime.”
I turn out the living room and kitchen lights and head for my room, lying in bed atop the covers in my clothes. It’s weird, I know, but my body is still on high alert in every way it can be.
