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“When are you and Mom going to lock this thing down?”
He looked to Holt for help.
“Tie the knot.” Holt took a swig of his beer.
Mr. Dixon’s cheeks turned crimson. “I, uh, well—” He scratched the back of his neck.
Mrs. Quinn stared at him. She wasn’t letting him off the hook. “Well, what?”
“You’d really have me?”
“You’re an old fool.” She turned back toward me. “Don’t follow his lead.”
“Noted.” I kissed the top of her head.
Trish frowned as she answered her phone. After a series of uh-hus and where are yous she hung up.
“Cricket has been arrested. She swears she didn’t do it.”
“What did they pick her up for?” I asked.
“Drug possession with the intent to deal.”
I looked at Marlow.
“Go.” She pointed her head toward the door.
“Let me take you upstairs.”
“That’s totally inappropriate.” The corner of her mouth twitched.
I rounded the island and wedged between her and Baker. “How about this?”
I pressed my lips to hers and eased my tongue inside the heat of her mouth. Something hit me in the back. Then the head. Side.
“That’s my sister,” Holt said in disgust as something else beaned me in the head.
“Mine too. Let’s go, Romeo.”
I peeled away from her. “Call me if—”
“Go away.”
“Love you too.” I kissed her forehead. We both froze. The L-bomb had slipped out. I didn’t want to take it back.
Marlow appeared to be a cross between horrified and petrified. The fallout from this would be fun. I kissed her head again.
“I’m going with you.” Trish slipped off her barstool.
“Me too,” Baker said.
“It’s better if you both stay here.”
“She needs us.” Trish grabbed her purse.
“Will you be here or at home?” Baker pointed at Holt.
“Here.”
