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“Your belongings. You need to sign for them.”
I nod, having completely forgotten I had a purse. I leave Tyler unhappy to be waiting longer. I understand his grievance. It’s now two in the morning, and we could all use a good night’s sleep.
Bronson walks me over to a counter, where a female officer has my bag in a large Ziplock. We go through the contents, and then I look inside my purse, signing a form to confirm everything I had with me tonight is accounted for.
When I’m done, I’m about to walk back to Tyler, who is impatiently tapping his foot by the front door, when Officer Bronson halts me. Those light eyes look down, slightly unsure, before he looks straight into my eyes. I take a deep breath, which seems to be a habit when he stares at me. It’s the smolder. The man has a look that burns slowly, melting you on the spot. I wonder if it has anything to do with the uniform. Like how Tim McGraw looks hot with the cowboy hat, but not so much without it. I don’t think the intense gaze of Officer Bronson would be as powerful if he were wearing pajama pants and a hoodie.
I tilt my head at him, wondering what it is that has us standing here.
His lips purse for a moment. “Are you okay, going home with him?”
“Tyler?” I ask incredulously. “He’s harmless.”
“You had a lot to say about how he hurt you. I need to make sure you’re emotionally okay, being alone with him.” His words are purposeful and laced with concern.
I let out a breath, enlightening this man’s understanding of my feelings. I look down at his hand and don’t see a ring on his finger. “Do you have kids?”
He shakes his head.
I shrug my shoulders and sigh. “Divorce sucks. You expect to love each other forever, and when that doesn’t happen, you end up fighting over property and pensions and who gets the fine china. It’s an exhausting process that leaves you feeling very bitter, very alone, and suddenly very, very single. But when you have children with that person, thatuntil death do you partpromise comes into play. I might hate that man, but he’s still the father of my children, and for at least the next thirteen years, until my son goes to college, I’m stuck with tolerating him. And despite his flaws, he did me a solid tonight.”
He squints his eyes and gives a sly grin. “Are you confessing that you did indeed break into Bella Boutique Spa in order to obtain your hair color card?”
Yes, actually, I did break into the salon because I was frantic and drunk, but that’s beside the point.
I scrunch my face and raise a finger at him. He’s slick, but not that slick. “Nice try.”
I walk away from the handsome officer and to my scoundrel of an ex, who rises again from his seat and holds his hands out, as if saying,Are you ready?
With an air of sarcasm, I grunt at him. “Jeez, Tyler. Can we please get out of here now? I’ve been waiting on you for hours.”
He lets out a groan as I brush past him and out to his brand-new Mercedes-Benz. I’ll have to remember this new car when he complains about the upcoming cost of Izzy’s braces.
I slide onto the soft leather and close the door. Tyler climbs in on his side and starts the car. He’s wearing jeans and a sweater—something he must have thrown on quickly to look presentable at the station. He drives through the streets of Greenwood Village, the radio turned off.
He runs a hand down the side of his face. We make it about seven blocks before the silence is broken.
“Lyss, if you need money, just tell me. Robbing the salon is not the answer.”
My back hits the side of the door as I stare back at him, incredulous, hoping he’s joking with that comment. The way his brows lower and he looks at me with pity has me barking out a laugh.
“I wasn’t there to rob the salon.”
“Then, what were you doing? Maisie got an alert on her phone that the security cameras went off in the back room, and the cleaning crew never goes in there, so when she looked at the camera feed and saw you, she called the cops.”
“Maisie is the one who called the cops? I thought it was the cleaning crew. Jesus, Tyler. You two really think I was there for her money? What business owner keeps money in a store at night anyway? You’re supposed to take it home with you at the end of the day. Besides, most of her clients pay with credit cards.”
“You know an awful lot about her salon.”
If my eyes could shoot daggers, I’d let them. “I know a lot about running a business because I run one myself.”
“Party planning isn’t a cash operation.”
“Go to hell, Tyler.”
He slams his head against his seat. “Fine. You’re not gonna be straight with me. Just promise you won’t go near Maisie’s business or any of her things again.”
“That’s a good idea. Then, maybe you should tell her to stop wearing my robe. I didn’t even realize I’d left it there until the kids mentioned she was wearing a white robe with the initialsMJLon the breast pocket.”
