She shuddered. “I don’t do cats.”
I rolled my eyes—and shuddered a bit myself—at her double entendre. “Yeah, well. Neither do I.” I shook my hands free of the imaginary cat hair. “What’s up?”
Shelly lifted Bailey and gurgled on her belly. “Just checking on the happy couple. You looked kinda freaked out last night.”
For a second I thought she’d meant at night, when I had indeed freaked out. Right in the middle of Colin fucking me. But then I realized she meant after the ballet. Yup, still freaked out. I made a habit of it, apparently.
“Never mind that,” I said. “Did you see who just stopped by for a chat?”
“Rick?” she asked.
“What? No. It was cops.”
“Oh,” she said. “Shit.”
“Sit,” said Bailey.
Shelly met my eyes. Double shit.
“What did they want?” she asked.
“It’s a long story,” I sighed. “So I don’t think I ever told you, but…Colin’s brother is…I’m not sure.”
She raised her eyebrow.
“A criminal,” I said.
She thought for a second, unfazed. “Like, what? A thief?”
“Maybe.”
“A drug dealer.”
“Probably.”
“Worse?” Now she was interested.
“I think yes.”
“And the cops were looking for him?”
“No, they were looking for Colin. Actually they came to talk to me. Because Colin is involved in the whole thing. And that means…”
“Bad shi— stuff,” she finished.
I nodded.
“Do they have anything?” she asked.
“Hell if I know.” I glanced at Bailey as if that absolved me of my swearing sins.
“How bad are we talking?”
“Don’t know that either. Colin was pretty vague. He made it sound like some sort of business. Crime business. What the hell is that? Anyways, Philip looked like the—”
“Wait. Philip? Philip Murphy?”
Oh, no. No no no. The only thing that could possibly make this bad situation worse was if Shelly were involved.
“You know him?” I choked on the words.
“I know him,” she confirmed, her face grim. “I’ve gotta run.”
“What? Now?”
“Yup.” She plopped a fussing Bailey into my arms and vanished out the back door as quickly as she’d appeared.
Well, shit.
I gave myself a tacit pat on the back for keeping that swear to myself. It was hard as hell, but I was learning. It twisted me up inside to want something better, but when I looked at Bailey, I couldn’t help but hope. It would hurt like hell to face my past—to start to heal—but being with Colin almost made it seem possible.
Chapter Two
I decided to tell Colin about the cops. After dinner.
It didn’t take a domestic goddess to realize a man was more amenable on a full stomach. Plus, spazzing out as soon as he got home just reeked of insecurity. However accurate that might have been, I wanted to show him I could deal with this. No problem. Detectives questioning me before snack time? Easy.
So when Colin came through the back door, I just called over my shoulder. “Hey, you. How was your day?” I dropped a spoonful of cookie dough onto the sheet. Look at me, so domestic.
“Not great,” he answered.
I froze, but the lump of dough slid from the spoon and landed on the tray with a plop. Colin was like Shelly. A faker. He said great when he meant fine, and fine when he meant total suckage. Not great was practically a cry for help.
I turned around. He looked like…Colin. Sturdy, steady. Dependable. Or maybe it’s just that I had depended on him so much that I wanted him to be that way for me.
I walked over to him and reached up to cup his jaw. “What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Bailey?”
“Napping.” I smiled. Physical comfort, I could give.
“We need to talk.”
My smile fell. So much talking today and none of it good.
“Is there something you didn’t tell me about Andrew?” he asked.
Alarm bells clanged. There was a lot I hadn’t told him about Andrew, actually, but I had a feeling I knew exactly which thing he was talking about. The question was, how could he know? “Like what?”
“How long did you and Andrew date?”
Shit. He knew. But how? And perhaps more importantly, how the hell could I get around this? I tried to collect my thoughts, my lies. Lying about this felt more natural than not, but I wasn’t prepared for this direct questioning out of the blue. I wasn’t prepared for all this fucking security to shatter. It was too soon. I’d had just a taste, and it was too fucking soon.
“Colin,” I tried. “Has something happened?”
“Answer the question.”
I felt panic rise in my chest, and I tamped it down. “I’m not going to answer the question until you tell me what is going on. Something had to have happened. You’re acting weird.”
“I spoke to Andrew today.”
“You did what?” Jesus Christ. Colin and Andrew together. This was a cluster fuck of the first order. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Why would you do that? What did he say?”
“We had to find out if he was going to pursue this.”