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“Murderous ex-wife?” I sit at Tim’s bar, my back to the countertop, and my eyes on the front door. I cradle a soda in my good hand, since my bad arm is in its sling, like Archer demands every time he looks at me. “Dude cheated on her and fucked with their kids?” I stop and nod, though Archer sits right beside me, his shoulder pressed to mine. “I get why she did what she did.”
“Would you do the same?” Aubree leans in from Archer’s other side and whisper-hisses, not nearly as quiet as she thinks she is. “If your man cheated on you and messed with your kid’s happiness, would you kill him?”
“In a heartbeat.” I pick a cooling fry from my plate and grin for Archer Malone.
His eyes sparkle, green and playful—a direct response because I’m sittingandeating. Two resting and recuperating actions he so adores for me.
“A man is already gonna be in trouble for cheating on me,” I tell her. “But if his actions bring pain to an innocent child?” I plop the fry in my mouth and scoff. “Especially the damage our vic caused to his children. I’d have plucked every tooth, too.”
Aubree snickers, but she takes my words as a silly exaggeration, rather than a promise. “Sometimes I wish killing someone wasn’t so…” She looks to Archer. “Illegal. There are a lot of bad people in this world, and sometimes, they deserve to be hurt.”
“You’re talking to a cop.” Archer turns on his stool to rest his elbows on the bar, but his shoulder still supports my weight. Picking up his beer, he brings it to his lips and sips. “Making such a confession probably isn’t in your best interest.”
“But sometimes, people are just that bad,” she insists. “Sometimes, people deserve to feel the same pain they hand to others.”
“Uh-huh. And if, at some point, you’re under investigation for murder,” he drawls, “I’m gonna be forced to remember this conversation.”
“Yeah, but—”
Tim comes to a stop in front of his brother and slaps his hand across Aubree’s mouth. “Stop talking.”
His arm is muscular and tattooed. His jaw, gritted with exasperation as the woman he loves implicates herself in a crime she’s yet to commit. Then he lowers to an elbow and meets Archer’s stare with one of his own. “Forget you ever had this conversation.”
“Can’t.” Teasing, he picks at the remnants of his dinner. “She practically confessed.”
“She hasn’t killed anyone yet,” he growls. “And when she does…” he stops and shakes his head. “She didn’t. I did it for her.” Releasing Aubree’s face and meeting her gaze, he’s both adoring and annoyed in one. “You need a poker face, Emeri. Harden up, and stop confessing to shit you don’t wanna serve time for.”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’tactuallykill anyone. I just meant I can understand why people hurt people.”
“Uh-huh. Finish your dinner.” He pushes her half-eaten meal closer and purses his lips. “Don’t waste what I worked hard to make.”
“You seem…” I turn on my stool and look my brother-in-law up and down with a curious gaze. He’s being… nicer than usual. Friendlier “Pleasant,” I settle on. “Why are you in such a good mood?”
“I’m not allowed to be happy?” Stealing a fry from Aubree’s plate, he tosses it past his lips and grins. “I’m a happy person.”
“You are the least happy person I know,” Archer’s shoulders bounce in his mirth, and best of all, his arm comes across my torso to anchor against my opposite hip. I don’t even care if the movement hurts my injury. “You’re always scowling and mean,” he taunts. “You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“Icarried,” he counters. “Past tense. Now Felix is in charge, and I’m still out. No one knocks on my door before midday, asking forcoffee,” he casts a pointed, dangerous look my way. “My family is safe. Daisy can run the bar without me, which frees up my time a little. Cordoza doesn’t try to call me anymore. Felix tries to call me too often, and even though I ignore him, he leaves messages, but they’re all kinda saying New York is under control. Aubree Emeri hates me less.” He looks to her, all swoony and handsome until her cheeks burn a furious red. “The world sucks a little less right now.” He pushes up straight and shrugs. “I’m okay with how things are for once. So fuckin’ sue me for being happy.”
Arch only chuckles and presses a kiss to my temple.
“Uncle Tim!”
Mia’s excited whoop brings me around to find the little girl dashing through the bar, and behind her, still at the door, Charlie Fletcher.
He doesn’t look nearly as cheerful as Tim does. Not even close to how free or happy Archer is.
He walks in alone—no Jada, and no Fifi—and closes the door at his back. But while I watch him, Archer catches Mia on the fly and sets her on the bar with anoomph. She scrambles to her knees and spins to attack Tim with a hug.
But I keep an eye on her daddy, and the second Fletch is close enough, I reach out and pat his arm. “You okay? You look like someone ran over your cat.”
He coughs out a laugh and reaches between me and Arch to steal Archer’s half-drunk beer. “I don’t have a cat. Which is for the best, because right now, I have nothing left to give.”
“Okay, what’s wrong?” I turn in my seat and basically wedge the cop between me and my husband. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” He watches Mia make her way to her feet on the bar and wrap her arms around Tim’s neck, squeezing until his face turns red. “I haven’t talked to Jada in a couple of days.”
“So?” I sneer. “She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Fletch. She doesn’t have to check in with you.”
