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Grinning, I glance down at the innocent-looking golden retriever. “What? Are you now my chaperone?”
Troy laughs, the sexy rumble felt throughout my body, our chests almost touching. “Hey, that’s not part of your PSD training.”
Bailey flashes him a puppy grin, and a giggle escapes me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Troy brushes his lips against mine once more and leaves through the back door.
I lock the door and put Bailey’s training vest on her. I click on the leash, and we go upstairs. I give her a treat as positive reinforcement and flip on the bathroom light.
A pink Post-It note clings to the upper right-hand corner of the mirror. Ever since Troy’s first Morse-coded message, he’s been leaving them all over my house.
And I’ve been leaving messages forhimto find.
After I’m finished in the bathroom, I peel the message from the mirror, go into the spare bedroom, and retrieve the box of Angelique’s things from the secret room in the closet. I go back downstairs with the journal I’m reading and my notebook. Bailey follows me.
I put the journal and notebook on the coffee table and settle on the couch. I point to where I want Bailey to lie down by my feet. After two attempts to get her to do what I requested, she follows my instructions, and I reward her.
“Should we find out what Troy’s message says?” I don’t even have to look at the screenshot on my phone anymore to decode it:
I figured you would be a hot kisser. And now I know I am right.
I grab my phone and chew on my lower lip. I return the phone to the coffee table. Pick it up again. Type a text:
I always figured you would be a hot kisser too. Glad to see I was right.
My finger hovers over the Send button.Crap. Crap. Crap. I’m flirting with Troy. Not good. Not good at all. He and I are friends. Nothing more.
Is that why you kissed him?
I went through hell with my husband. I’m piecing myself back together bit by bit. But what if that isn’t enough?
What if I’m still not good enough for Troy? He deserves better than the taped-together pieces of the woman I was prior to meeting my husband.
But Troy isn’t your late husband. Your husband is dead, and Troy is nothing like him. Troy is patient. He doesn’t expect you to heal overnight.It’s Robyn’s voice saying the words this time in my head.
I hit Send before I can change my mind.
His reply comes through a few minutes later:
I’m hoping tonight won’t be the last of kissing you.
Me: If you play your cards right, your wish might come true.
Troy: Just to be clear, you’re not talking about Game Night, are you? I believe this Friday will be charades. Not sure I can wait until poker night.
I laugh even though he knows I won’t be there. Noah isn’t on shift at the station, which means he and Avery will be at Game Night. Robyn would probably tell me I should go, would remind me Noah isn’t my husband. Would tell me not all cops are bad or abusive.
She might tell me that, but I have a hard time trusting cops or believing they’re on my side when history has proved otherwise.
Me: No, you don’t have to wait that long. ;)
Troy: Phew! That’s a relief.
Me: See you tomorrow.
Troy: Hope you have a good night.
Me: After that kiss, I’m sure I’ll have pleasant dreams.
