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She loved to fish, and she did love to catch them. Kade had a boat he stored on Lake James, and whenever he was home and the weather was nice, he’d invite her to come fishing with him. Usually, she’d fish while he settled in for a nap.
Tristan had once invited himself along, and both she and Kade had threatened to throw him overboard if he didn’t stop complaining about how bored he was. Since then, he’d been banned from their fishing trips.
“Stay safe and come home to your family,” she said, then stepped away.
“I’ll always come home.”
He couldn’t promise that, but she didn’t call him out for saying it, instead praying that would always be true. She pushed on his chest. “Go get some sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She took one last admiring look at their handiwork, then headed home to get a few hours of sleep herself.
The next morning her phone chimed with an incoming text. A picture of Tristan appeared. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at his Mustang. Underneath the photo was a text from Kade.
Exact quote. “Oh, she’s gone and done it now.”
She giggled. Jeez, when was the last time she’d giggled? Maybe when she was sixteen during a slumber party when everyone was on a sugar high. She was going to have to be vigilant because he was going to pay her back. No doubt about it.
When she got to work, she scanned the area around the building. No sign of Tristan’s SUV. Safe for now. She detoured to the breakroom for a cup of coffee, then got to work.
“When you gonna announce Randal’s replacement?” Mason said, walking into her office and taking a seat.
Sometimes she regretted her open-door policy. Mostly because it allowed Mason to barge in whenever he wanted. “Soon.” And it won’t be you. She was so not looking forward to dealing with him when he learned he wouldn’t get the promotion.
“There’s only one right choice.”
She inwardly sighed. “Mason, aren’t you supposed to be on jail duty in ten minutes?” And get that scowl off your face.
“With my experience and seniority, I shouldn’t have—”
“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Tristan said, appearing in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee and a white bag.
“No. Come on in, Chief. Mason’s headed out.” She pointedly looked at her deputy.
Shooting her another scowl, Mason stood. “Good morning, Chief,” he said, giving Tristan a smile that she never got from him.
Tristan nodded. “Mason.”
From Tristan’s curt greeting and non-smile, she gathered he wasn’t a fan of her deputy either. Smart man. Unlike the friendly way he treated most people, Fuzz ignored Mason as he headed straight for her. Smart dog, too.
Tristan sat in the chair Mason had vacated, put one of the coffees on her desk and pushed it toward her, then pulled a pastry from the bag, along with a napkin, and set them on her desk. He removed another one and took a bite.
She sat back in her chair. Did he really think she was going to touch that pastry or the coffee? “What brings you by this morning?”
“Told Miss Mabel we’d have our recommendations to her by Friday. Thought we should get started.”
“I can’t this morning. I have to leave in about fifteen minutes for Probate Court.” Interesting that he had nothing to say about his Mustang.
“Hmm.” He seemed to be thinking something as he drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Tell you what. I’m on babysitting duty tonight so Parker can paint. Why don’t you come over, have dinner with me and Everly? After I get her to bed, we can do our planning committee thing.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Parker’s daughter was adorable, but spending time with Tristan in his home? Not wise. She would love to see inside it, though. The brothers lived in the house they’d grown up in, and the place was big and beautiful.
“It’s a great idea. I promised Everly I’d make lasagna and garlic bread for dinner. Not to brag, but I make a mean lasagna.”
He didn’t play fair. The night they’d met, while sitting at the bar, they’d talked about some of their favorite things to do and eat. She’d told him lasagna was her weakness.
“Say yes. You know you want to.”
