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“I was thinking the other day, I don’t even know your first name.”
“Rhys, but spelled differently than the peanut butter cup. I’ve been called Monk since I was a kid, though.”
“I guess you didn’t talk much then either.”
“I didn’t.” Monk found himself wanting to tell Saylor about his sister and how her murder had resulted in his difficulty communicating, but it was too soon for a conversation like that. “Thank you for dinner,” he said instead.
“Thank you for joining us.”
Monk turned his body so he was facing her. “Tell me how I can spend time with you.”
“Monk, I…”
“Ground rules?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Set some.”
“Okay, but remember, you asked for this.”
He nodded.
“No sleepovers. That’s a big one. No PDA of any kind.”
“Hand holding?”
“It depends on the circumstance.”
“Roger that.”
Saylor smiled. “The girls are my number one priority, and whatever they need comes first.”
“What else?”
“That’s a lot, Monk. The only thing we’ve really done is…uh…have sleepovers.”
He stroked his finger down the side of her face. He wanted to do so much more, but he’d respect the boundaries she’d put in place.
“I like this,” she said, stroking his beard. She rested her palm against his cheek. “This isn’t going to be easy. I so want to kiss you right now.”
Monk wanted to pick her up, carry her into the bedroom, strip off her clothes, and keep her there for a month. Instead, he took her hand in his and brought the palm to his lips. “I should go.”
“Yes. Okay.”
She stood when he did.
“Please say goodnight to the girls and thank them for me.”
“I will.”
10
“What are you doing?”
“Hi, Saylor, how are you?”
“Hi, Poppy. Sorry. Are you busy?”
