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We were silent for a few minutes. Speaking felt like it might shatter whatever this was, and I didn’t know if that would be good or bad.
“It’s a good design.” She was looking at her drawing again. “Simplistic, but I could totally see if we added a spinning blade, some side armor.” She twisted her head sideways. “Have to decide between exposed wheels or hidden. Both have drawbacks…”
The cloud that was hanging over her faded, and one corner of her mouth pulled up. She was processing. Planning.
I could hear the gears whirring in her brain. “You should do it. Design it. Build it.”
“No.” Like that her creeping joy vanished. “Talk about frivolous and expensive.” She set the picture on a nearby shelf and stood. “I need to get back to work, and I should let you do the same.”
“You need to not shove this idea aside so easily.” I climbed to my feet as well. “You were almost smiling just now.”
Evie twisted her mouth. “And then adult me woke up and realized that was in the past.”
How was I supposed to counter that? Sit here and force her to build a combat robot? That didn’t sound effective. “I’ll let you go back to work then.”
“Let me?” This time her amusement was dry.
“Yes. Let you. And make sure you have fun tonight with the Nerd Herd. But tomorrow, if we’re not building robots, we’re figuring out how to make sure you keep this place.”
“Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
Her almost-smile was back. She clicked her feet together, stood at attention, and saluted. “Yes, sir.”
I grabbed her salute hand and squeezed her fingers. “As you were, Marine. I’ll see you soon.”
As I walked past the front register, I told Terrance, “Call me if that guy comes back.” Because fuck Sawyer.
My thoughts were a jumble as I stepped outside. If Sawyer was staying in Haddarville, his car was going to stand out. He’d be easy to track down. If he had any brains at all—which I was questioning—he left town when Evie screamed at him.
Which brought me to how was I going to help Evie? Coming up with a solution didn’t seem as daunting as getting her to accept the assistance.
When I saw a familiar car—not Sawyer’s—parked outside my grill a few doors down, my brain stalled.
That was Grace’s Chrysler. What was my ex-wife doing here?
I didn’t have many feelings around seeing her again beyond curiosity and a little bit of resentment. I’d learned that I didn’t miss her, but I did dislike her. The faster I found out what she wanted, why it had to be in person instead of a phone call, the faster I could shoo her out the door.
As I approached the restaurant, I had a good view inside through the large bank of windows. She sat at the front counter with her back to me. Knox, my business partner, stood across from her, watching her with a scowl on his face, and Rohde, stood next to him in his deputy uniform, wearing a similar look.
Friends. What would I do without them? I pasted on a flat expression for Grace’s benefit and pushed into the building.
She whirled, and gave me a huge, sweet smile.
I used to melt for that smile.
“Gage, hi. I was hoping I’d find you.”
I’d given up being surprised years ago that she couldn’t remember my birthday. “You came to the right place. What can I do for you?” I wasn’t friendly or rude or much of anything.
Some of her cheer faltered, but she kept that fucking mask in place. The same one she’d worn while she fucked around on me. “I’m leaving.”
“You already left.”
Her scowl peeked through. “As in, I’m moving. Out of state.”
That explained why she’d been so eager to put our house on the market, out of nowhere. Funny how she’d refused to give me details before now. “Hmm. When?”
