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“Thanks.” He sipped and made a sound of enjoyment. “What brings you by?”
I jumped straight in. “I took a chance with Grace last night. Asked if she’d ever seen us as potentially being more than friends. It…didn’t pan out well.”
Max frowned. “What do you mean? What did she say?”
I looked at the ground, feeling my cheeks flush with remembered embarrassment. “She made an excuse—something about her dog—and ran out like the fucking devil himself was on her tail.”
“Hmm.” His thoughts flicked through his eyes, one after the other, but I couldn’t pinpoint what they were. Surprise, perhaps. Concern. “Tell me what, exactly, you said to her.”
I explained, feeling strangely as if we’d gone back in time and were teenage boys discussing our crushes, except the stakes were much higher. Max listened with his usual focus and didn’t interrupt or respond at all until I was done. He seemed to be mulling something over.
Eventually, his expression reluctant, he said, “I don’t think Grace is completely uninterested in you, but you took her by surprise. You’ve been friends for years. Suddenly veering into new territory might have shocked her. You just need to give her some time and show her you mean it.”
“You think?”
He was right that I’d just dropped the question on her without any buildup. I’d gone in like a bulldozer once again. Damn it, I had to stop doing that.
“I do.” Max hesitated, then reached over and clapped me on the shoulder. “Seriously, man. You and Grace would be a great couple. Don’t give up on her because of one rough patch. Give her time to get her head around what you asked and then see if you can broach the topic again. Maybe a little more tactfully this time.”
“Tact is not something I’m good at.”
He gave me a cut-the-bullshit look. “It might not be something you like, but you’re a cop. You deal with the harshest parts of society and have managed not to lose your shit on anyone so far, so you’re capable of some control.”
I winced. He might be the nice one, but he didn’t pull any punches when it came to the truth either. “Fair.” I smiled tightly. “I appreciate you hearing me out. I’ll do what you suggested. Give her time and try not to treat her differently until she’s ready to talk about it.”
Hopefully, she’d do the same for me.
28
GRACE
Three daysafter I ran out on Nate—and zero conversations with him later—I was in my bedroom, getting dressed for the morning, when I had the creepy feeling that something wasn’t quite right. I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting one of those horror movie moments with a masked man standing there holding an ax, but there was nothing. I scanned the room, and everything seemed to be in its place.
I was a tidy person, so it was usually obvious if something was where it wasn’t supposed to be. I tiptoed to the closet, feeling ridiculous but unable to shake the niggling fear in the back of my mind. I cracked the closet open and peered in, but again, everything looked normal. I opened it wider and rifled through the hanging items of clothing. They were still organized in the correct order: dresses, shirts, pants, and skirts.
I turned and walked a circle around the room. Duke trotted in and nosed at my leg.
“Hang on, Dukie,” I murmured. If someone had been in here, surely he’d have sensed them, or the camera feed would have picked it up. I’d have to check the footage later today.
I was about to leave when I noticed the lid of my jewelry box was slightly ajar. Frowning, I walked over to it. I hadn’t put on any jewelry today, so there was no reason for it to be open. I lifted the lid and gasped. The velvet box where I’d kept my wedding ring was empty. I picked up the empty box and checked to make sure the ring hadn’t simply slipped out. Then I sifted through my other jewelry. The ring was gone. A thread of concern wove through me. I never wore that ring. Never. I only kept it as a symbol of my friendship with Ryan. It wasn’t even the most valuable thing in my jewelry box if a thief had been interested in pawning something for cash.
Someone had taken the ring.
I felt chilled to the core. When had they been in here? How long had it been since I’d worn jewelry? I usually didn’t bother unless I was going out to dinner or an event. It could have been days ago, and I might simply not have noticed the box was ajar. For all I knew, someone had taken it at the same time they’d sifted through my underwear.
My heart hammering, I strode through to the kitchen, where I’d left my phone, and called Nate.
“Morning, Gracie.” He sounded hesitant, and it occurred to me that we hadn’t spoken properly since I’d run out on him, except for a couple of innocuous text messages. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“Someone has stolen my wedding ring.” My voice trembled. “I don’t know when. I only noticed now, but it might not have been in the last couple of days. I don’t wear jewelry very often, especially in winter, so it’s hard to say when I last saw it.”
“Your ring is gone?” His tone had become businesslike.
“Yes.”
“Where do you keep it?”
“In a box in my bedroom.”
