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I lean forward, focusing on her. “Are they okay? Is Libby all right?”
“Yes. The police wanted to ask Libby a few questions. So I stayed for that.”
“What? Why?” I’m bursting out of my skin with the need for information. I stand and step over Wrath’s giant legs so I can sit next to Hope. “I thought she was the passenger.”
“She was. It was routine.” Her lips twist into a wry smile. “It was actually an officer Rock knows. He gave me a hot tip to sue the city. And let it slip that the driver who hit them was drunk.”
“Shit.”
She nods. “I’ve never handled personal injury cases. But I told her I can help her find someone if she wants to go that route.”
“Thanks for doing that. And staying there while Libby was questioned.”
“No problem. At least I felt useful. And,” a playful smile flickers over her face, “no one yelled at me.”
“Again, Hope.” Murphy throws a few punches in the air. “We got you covered.”
“Ah…” She sighs and sits back against the couch, briefly closing her eyes. “It feels good to be home.”
“We missed you,” Sparky says. “The earth mother energy was vacant and left a giant hole in the aura surrounding the property.”
The five of us stop and stare at Sparky, but Hope’s the one who speaks first.
“Aw, that’s sweet, Sparky.” After a second she adds, “I think,” under her breath.
The rumble of a few different vehicles travels up the driveway. Wrath turns to glance out the window and nods.
Hope cocks her head and a slow smile spreads over her face. “One of those sounds like Rock.” She presses her fists into the couch cushions and stands, hurrying toward the front door.
“Awww!” Sparky and Stash call after her.
“They’ve been together, what, five or six years?” Stash ponders, tapping his finger against his temple. “And they’re still all excited to see each other and shit. That’s goals.”
“I’m always excited to see you,” Sparky says.
“I’m not,” Wrath quips.
I stand. “As much fun as this has been,” I say in a dry enough tone to convey it hasn’t been fun at all, “I need to talk to Rock.”
“Better hurry,” Wrath urges. “Before they fuse their tongues together.”
“Ugh,” Murphy groans.
Ignoring both of them, I move toward the front door. Should I give them a minute to say hello? Or grab Rock now in case he decides to go home without coming inside? My gaze lands on Hope’s stuff still sitting on the bar. She’ll return for that, right?
Outside, they are indeed in a clinch in the middle of the parking area. I close the screen door with an extra-hard clank to warn them they’re no longer alone and hit the steps hard.
Rock pulls away from his wife first, slipping an arm around Hope’s waist.
“Hey, Prez,” I call out.
Hope presses her hand to his chest and leans up to say something in his ear. Reluctantly, he releases her. As she passes me, she points toward the clubhouse. “Forgot my stuff.”
I nod and try not to laugh.
“How are you?” Rock greets.
Shitty. “All right.” I stop in front of him and get straight to the point. “We all good with Loco? I’m sorry I jetted out of there before the meeting—”
“Don’t sweat it,” Rock cuts me off. “Everything okay?”
“No and yes.” I run my hand over the back of my neck and shift my gaze toward the garage.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“Not right now.”
“You know where I am if you need something.” He clasps my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “Any time.”
“Thanks, Prez.”
The door creaks and bangs closed behind us. Hope’s heels click over the driveway. “All set!”
Rock holds out his hand and takes her briefcase. “Knucklehead’s waiting for us.”
“Teller and Charlotte watching Grace?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Rock’s mouth twists into a smirk.
“They watched Grace, I covered Charlotte’s cases,” Hope explains with a laugh. “I definitely drew the short stick.”
“I’ll catch you guys later.” I wave and turn toward the garage. Once I’m inside, I can’t help watching Rock and Hope with a pang in my chest. Their easy affection with each other.
It didn’t take long for Emily to carve out a space in my chest that belongs to her—and only her. I might have walked away but it was only temporary.
I never thought I’d feel so deeply for another woman.
For a long time, I told myself I’d never have that again. Convinced myself I didn’t want it.
The ache in my chest says that was a lie.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Emily
Angry baby screams punch me awake the next morning.
“Shhh,” Serena whispers outside my door. “Shh.”
“It’s okay,” I shout. “I’m up.”
“Sorry!” she yells.
By the time I make it downstairs, Lincoln’s happily playing with bright, colorful soft toys on a large blanket Serena spread out over the kitchen floor.
Libby’s at the table twirling spaghetti around her fork.
“Pasta for breakfast?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
