Chapter Twenty-Two
Never Forgive
I’d found a parking spot three blocks away from the Lucy in Cherry Creek North but as I was hoofing it up to the store I saw Darius’s Silverado parked three cars down from the front door.
Lee and his boys always managed to do that. It was some kind of voodoo but they had parking magic.
It was annoying, especially after driving by Lucy (twice) to find a parking spot that Darius obviously got after me and hoofing three blocks.
Darius was sitting behind the wheel of his truck. I stopped outside Lucy, where Darius and Brody were supposed to meet me, and sent a salute his way to get his attention even though it looked like his wire-rimmed shades were aimed my way.
He lifted a hand and did a full finger curl indicating I should haul my ass to his truck.
Badasses.
Save me.
I sighed and moved to his truck, yanked open the door, climbed in and turned to him.
“I have a full day and I need to shop,” I said by way of greeting. “So if we can multi-task, that’d work in a big way for me.”
“Then it’s good this meetin’ is gonna go fast because my ass is not gonna be in that store,” Darius replied by way of his.
I knew it.
Whatever.
“Is Brody coming?” I asked. “I texted him and he hasn’t replied.”
“He’s neck deep in used energy drink cans, his eyes are bloodshot and he’s glued to the computer. He’s on a mission to find out who’s writin’ those books and he’s runnin’ up against wall after wall. He’s taken this on as a personal challenge. I think the only break he took since this all went down was to go to Luke and Ava’s thing.”
This surprised me.
“He’s made no headway?”
Darius shook his head. “None at all. He hacked the publisher’s systems and they don’t have that woman on their books. Not electronically. Whoever she is, she obviously knows about Brody and took precautions. Calls to them brought nothin’ back either. They say Kristen Ashley is a penname, the author is adamant about anonymity and they’re not at liberty to give out further information.”
Stymied.
Shit.
“Is there a legal route?” I asked.
“Lee looked into that,” Darius answered. “His attorney asked if there was anything untrue or defamatory in the book. Unfortunately, there’s not. So he’s f*cked.”
“What’s Brody doing now?”
“Checkin’ blogs, reviews, anything that might give some hint or start a trail to the author. He’s also tryin’ to pick up a thread on financials since the bitch is local and she has to be gettin’ paid.”
I thought it prudent to inform him, “Just to say, Ren has mentioned he’s also looking into this. He’s not happy it’s gone down and he and I are up eventually so, no pressure on Brody, but I think it would be good if Lee found whoever she is before Ren does.”
“Zano is no way gonna find her before Brody,” Darius spoke what was very likely the truth. “But, advice. You gotta brace. This woman, whoever she is, knows this crew. She knows us well and she’s taken precautions. She’s covered her shit so deep there may be no answer to that question, even for Brody, definitely not for Zano, and all you all might just hafta suck it up.”
I was actually okay with that. Truthfully, though I would never share this with my BFF and brother, I was itching to dig into their book. Though I’d likely skip the sex parts.
“Right, movin’ on to Smithie,” Darius said.
I nodded.
“Seein’ as when I asked Brody if he could take some time to run Smithie’s guy, he threw an empty can of Red Bull at me and Lee would probably get up in my shit if I tore his head off, I let him be.”
I grinned.
“So I ran him.”
“Okay,” I replied.
“Man’s thirty-three and established a career as a bouncer startin’ at twenty-one. Not much on him. He’s got one speeding ticket that he paid. He also got a DUI at nineteen that he beat. I talked with Eddie, Eddie talked with the arresting officer and that guy remembered our guy. The officer said our guy was a smooth talker, even back then. The kind who could talk his way outta anything. So much so, fourteen years have passed and he still remembers him.”
This was not good.
“What kind of clubs has he worked?” I asked.
“Normal shit, no strip clubs. Know a coupla the owners at places he worked, talked to them on the down low. Solid track record. Long tenures. Movin’ on only for more money.”
This gave us nothing.
“So I got eyes on him last night,” Darius told me.
“And?” I prompted.
“So he wouldn’t tag me, I stayed outside. Don’t know what he does backstage, but whatever business he’s doin’, he’s also doin’ it in the parking lot.”
I perked up. “What does that mean?”
“That means he has conversations with the girls he escorts to their cars. Not long ones. But not comfortable ones. Least not for the girls.”
My mind started working.
“We need to get one of the girls wired,” I murmured.
“Yeah. And you need a sit down with Lottie,” Darius stated.
“She’s after I drop a bundle in Lucy,” I told him.
He nodded then asked, “When you goin’ in?”
“I have my first stripper class this afternoon.”
He grinned.
I rolled my eyes.
“Tex and Nancy are getting married on Wednesday. My aim is to be in Thursday, but I have to confirm that with Smithie,” I shared.
“Want you covered,” he replied. “So you keep me in that loop. I’ll be there, but you won’t see me.”
I nodded again then told him, “You need to keep track of your hours and get in touch with Daisy to set up a contract. I’m billing them to Smithie and I’ll be paying you.”
“Unnecessary.”
Argh!
I loved my friends, but this was getting crazy.
“Totally necessary,” I returned.
“Ally, I’ll keep track of my hours. You bill him, but I do this shit for you, not money.”
God, Darius was great.
And everyone was being way cool, but enough was enough.
“Darius, this is my business now and I intend to do it right.”
“To get set up, you need capital. Bill Smithie. Invest that in your agency.”
“Darius—”
“This job,” he cut me off. “We’ll discuss what goes down with future jobs. Jump off on this one, Ally. You sort his shit, Smithie’ll talk you up and half of Denver’s male population strolls through his doors. Shirleen’s puntin’ you business. And Daisy’s got Marcus droppin’ your name. Me workin’ for free is just this job. Take it, pocket it, we talk when we got the next one.”
That I could do. I didn’t love it, but I could do it. Not to mention, agreeing meant we’d stop discussing it so I could get shopping, get to Lottie, get to Daisy’s to take my stripper class then get to my brother’s office for the meeting.
“This one job,” I agreed.
“Right, now got other shit to do,” Darius ended our meeting.
But I wasn’t done.
“We need to talk,” I declared.
“About what?” he asked.
I held his eyes and stated, “About you.”
His chin jerked back.
“Ally—”
I shook my head. “No. You. Me. Tequila. As soon as we can sit down.”
“There’s nothin’ to talk about,” he told me.
“You don’t even know what I want to talk about,” I told him.
“You said it was about me. And I know me.” He leaned in, his face got hard and his voice got kinda scary. “And when it comes to me, there’s nothin’ to talk about.”
Luckily, I didn’t scare easily.
“We’re talking, Darius,” I contradicted. “And we’re doing it soon.”
“This conversation is over,” he decreed. “Outta the truck.”
“Darius—”
He leaned in deeper. “Outta my f*ckin’ truck, Ally.”
I leaned right back.
“I love you,” I hissed, and his face behind his shades blanked but I didn’t stop. “And something’s not right with you. You’re holding back and I’m gonna find out why that is and help you get things right.”
“Outta the truck.”
“You know me, honey,” I said. “You know I won’t give up.”
“How’s this?” he asked, leaning back at the same time retreating. Not physically. Emotionally. “What’s wrong with me can’t get right.”
F*ck.
I had a feeling, and my feelings usually were right.
Still, I returned, “That isn’t true.”
“You know?” he asked.
“Yeah. I know. That isn’t true. It’s never true. Anything wrong can be made right.”
“You don’t know dick,” he bit out.
“Darius—”
“Outta my truck.”
“Darius!”
He leaned back in and rumbled (definitely scarily, even to me), “Get the f*ck outta my truck.”
I sucked in breath but I didn’t get out of the truck.
I leaned in deep so we were nose to nose, shades to shades, and I declared, “I won’t give up on you. I’ll never give up on you. What I’ll do right now is get outta your truck. But I’ll do it with you knowing me doing it does not mean I’m giving up on you.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Brace, brother. Because I’m gonna knock myself out to heal what’s broken in you. And I won’t quit until I’ve done it.”
On that, I didn’t give him a chance to reply.
I got out of his truck and sashayed into Lucy.
But I did it not thinking about the kickass running gear I was going to buy that would make my man lose control and give me orgasms in his kitchen (or elsewhere).
I did it worried.
* * * * *
I drove into the underground parking lot of Lee’s offices, my mind on a number of things.
One was trying to figure out what dress I was going to wear out to dinner that night with Ren. I hadn’t had a chance to try any of the four on that Roxie, Tod and Stevie bought me, but I knew just looking at them they were all on par in hotness so there wasn’t an obvious frontrunner.
This meant I needed time to try them all on and make a decision.
Another was the fact that my sit down with Lottie got me nothing. Whatever this guy was doing, he was not doing to her.
She did tell me she felt the vibe and had talked with some of the girls even before Smithie approached her to talk to the girls. They were closed up tight.
Even as the headliner, she didn’t have her own dressing room, although Smithie offered it. But she was social; she felt they were sisters and didn’t want to foster that kind of thing with the girls so she was in with them. Though she was, she hadn’t seen this dude do anything or heard him say anything.
Nothing there.
But she was also worried.
She came with me to Daisy’s house to help with my stripper classes. Once at The Castle, I discovered that Daisy had one of her many rooms set up with a stage that had a couple of poles.
“Gotta keep up my skills, sugar,” she said after she led us there and I stopped and stared at the set up. “Anyway, how do you think I keep this killer body?”
I had actually never asked how she kept her killer body, though I knew she power-walked regularly.
Thus commenced my stripper instruction, and even with two women I cared about the only ones in attendance, I felt awkward and danced stiffly.
After both of them showed me some moves, however, Daisy put on some music.
That did it.
Then again, music always did it for me.
Thus, three hours later when I finally hopped off the stage, Lottie gave me a huge-ass grin and declared, “You’re a natural. You’re even gonna give me a run for my money.”
I had no idea why that compliment made me feel warm inside. It just did. So I went with it.
After hugs and setting up my next class the next day, I headed out to my car but before I took off, I sat in it and called Smithie to tell him we were on the case, were amassing a file and I would be making my debut on Thursday.
He was ecstatic. Not about the file, about me dancing.
I ignored that and the not-so-great flutter that it sent shifting through my stomach, hung up and called Duke.
He wasn’t at Fortnum’s, so I phoned his house.
Duke had always been the kind of guy that, if you wanted to connect with him, you did that on his terms. In other words, face to face. Therefore, until Indy bought him and Dolores an answering machine last Christmas, there was no way to get a message to him.
Thanks to Indy’s intervention, I was able to leave a message at his place. That said, it was a crapshoot if he actually listened to it.
What I said was, “Hey Duke. Please don’t erase this without listening. I know you’re pissed at me and we need to talk about that. You know you mean a lot to me so you gotta know I don’t like that you’re pissed at me. But more, something’s up with Darius. I need to sit down with you about that and get your wisdom. So please, stop avoiding me so we can talk things out.” I paused then finished, “Hey Dolores.” Then I hung up.
It was slightly manipulative to drop the Darius thing, because Duke might be rough and gruff but he looked out for the crew. He probably already had his eye on Darius and was worried. So sucking him into that was totally making a play.
But I told Darius I would stop at nothing.
So I was going to stop at nothing.
I parked in Lee’s garage, got out of my car and made my way into the building and to the elevators. After running, shopping and stripping, I couldn’t face the stairs.
Truth be told, I didn’t know how I was going to face my getting ready preparations and a late dinner with Ren. I really wanted our date, as in, really. But I’d been running around all day, was facing what would likely not be a happy conversation with my family, and would rather go home, eat Ren’s delicious food and curl up on the couch and watch Nathan Fillion (and, of course, the rest of the cast of Castle).
The elevator expelled me on Lee’s floor. I made my way down the hall and into his office.
Shirleen was not behind the reception desk, but Vance was standing beside it, tossing a file on the top.
When I entered, he turned to me.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Ally,” he replied.
“What’s shakin’?” I asked.
He grinned his shit-eating grin and seriously—he was Jules’s; I loved Jules and I had Ren who I loved—but I had to admit that it wasn’t just once in the time I knew Vance that I wondered what it would be like to be horizontal and have him aim that shit-hot grin at me.
“Everything,” he replied. His grin faded and he said weirdly, “Tomorrow night.”
I stopped advancing to the door that led to the nerve center of my brother’s operations and turned to Vance. “What?”
“Tomorrow night. You’re ride along with me.”
My mouth dropped open, but the rest of my body jolted with pure, unadulterated glee.
“Got a security system I wanna show you how to bypass,” he went on.
That feeling stole through me, that one I liked, but I still didn’t move.
“You know how to pick a lock?” he asked.
I forced my mouth to move. “Um… not yet.”
“We’ll go through that tomorrow night, too.”
Holy shit!
“I—” I started, but Vance kept going.
“We document those hours, I sign off on them for the License Board.”
Holy shit!
“I… uh,” Pull it together, Ally! “Why?” I asked.
“Saw the tape,” Vance answered as I heard the door to the inner sanctum open.
But I didn’t look there.
I kept my eyes to Vance. “What tape?”
“You, cool as shit, dealin’ with those guys in Lincoln’s.”
“Impressive.” I heard muttered, and saw Hector standing with us, the strap of a workout bag over his shoulder. He was looking at Vance. “You offer ride along?”
“Yep,” Vance answered.
Hector looked at me. “You need help on a case and someone to sign off on your hours, call me.”
I stared.
Was this happening?
Hector did a chin lift to Vance and me and sauntered out.
I looked from the door that closed on Hector back to Vance. “What’s going on?”
“What’s goin’ on is the team saw the tape. Darius and Brody both talk you up. But we saw evidence of what they’ve been sayin’. You want this. You’re good at it. You should have it. So some of the guys are up for backin’ your play.”
Oh my God.
I didn’t know what to do.
I did know what to feel.
Ecstatically freaking happy.
I also knew what to ask.
“Is Lee okay with this?”
“None of us work here to have someone tell us what to do unless we need direction. So it doesn’t matter. He knows we do what we do. He also knows we won’t work here anymore if he gets up in our shit about what we do.”
This, I knew, was true.
However.
“But you’re offering me ride along on one of his cases,” I pointed out.
“Yeah. And after he trained me or if we’re not workin’ a team operation, he does not send me out, micromanaging how I deal with a case. And he’s f*ckin’ smart. Definitely smart enough to know it would not go down good if he started doin’ that shit.”
Before I could reply, the inside door opened again and I watched Ike move out.
He gave a chin lift to Vance, a mini-smile to me and walked by us to the door.
But at the door, he stopped, turned and said to me, “You need backup with that Smithie gig, you got my number.”
I had no chance to say anything before he was gone.
“I’m outta here,” Vance murmured, and I looked back at him. “Text you tomorrow when to meet me. We’ll meet here and move out.”
“I… uh, okay,” I agreed.
“Don’t be late,” he returned, then he, too, was gone.
I stared at the door.
I did this for a good long while.
Then I smiled.
I was still smiling when I tested the door to command central and found it unlocked, which was unusual, but likely left open for me.
I made my way to Lee’s office and entered it, yep… still smiling.
In it were the expected. Dad, Hank and Lee with the not expected but not surprising addition of Tom Savage, Indy’s father, my second dad and my dad’s best friend.
What was surprising was that Monty, another of Lee’s guys was there.
Monty took one look at me then looked to Lee and declared, “Vance offered the ride along.”
I looked to Lee and saw he was studying his boots, jaw hard.
I decided not to confirm this. If Lee’s boys were offering help, I’d take it. What I wouldn’t do was cause friction between Lee and his men. If they made their decisions and carried them out, that was one thing and they had to deal with that and any ramifications. If I stuck my nose in, say to gloat (or the like), that was another.
So I kept my mouth shut.
“Ally,” Monty called, and I looked back at him. “The men in this room are here because we know your plans and we’re askin’ you, with respect, to think long and hard about carrying them through.”
I held his eyes.
I’d known Monty a long time. He was the oldest member of the team, an ex-Navy SEAL who didn’t work in the field often for Lee due to an injury he sustained during his time in the military.
I liked him. He was solid guy; nice, funny, a family man. I also respected him.
But this pissed me off.
My father, second father and brothers, I’d show them respect and listen to what they had to say.
But Monty?
What the hell?
It must be said, I failed at not getting pissed-off, but I succeeded in keeping my shit together and therefore pointed out (somewhat) calmly, “I’ve been thinking on this for two years.”
“We’d like you to think on it longer,” Monty replied.
I drew in a deep breath.
“Monty’s here because he gives a shit, Ally,” Lee put in.
“I get that,” I said to my brother, then looked at Monty, “And due respect to you, what I do with my life is none of your business.”
“I’ve been doin’ this awhile, longer than your brother, and I’ve seen women chewed up and spit out in this business,” Monty returned.
“Yeah? So every man you know who tried his hand did spectacularly?” I shot back.
“Honey,” he started, and I fought back being even more pissed-off; not at the endearment, but at his patronizing tone. “Your first case has you stripping.”
“Yes. I’m working for Smithie. And to get the job done, it requires me doing something that’s uncomfortable. But you do what you have to do to get the job done, and I shouldn’t need to tell you that. Marcus Sloan has you on retainer, and don’t try to bullshit me that the things he pulls you boys in to do are the like of acting as crossing guards at the local school.”
Monty shut his mouth and looked at Lee.
In silent badass speak, that meant That was a good point. I said my piece. It’s now up to you.
It was then I got it. Monty was there as the objective voice of reason.
And this definitely pissed me off more, because it inferred they thought I was being unreasonable.
I slid my gaze through everyone in the room and stated, “Due respect to all of you, and I’ll note, that’s a lot of respect and it’s not just out of love. I know you all are skilled and experienced and exceptionally good at what you do.” I pinpointed Dad. “But you did not have a chat with Hank before he entered the Academy. You did not have a chat with Lee before he went into the Army or when he got out and built his team. You let them do what they had to do and you did that proud. The only reason I can think that I’m standing here is because I’m a woman. And that does not fly with me.”
“Ally,” Tom cut in, and I looked his way. “If Indy was doing this, I’d be worried.”
“Indy’s about coffee, books, family, friends, Lee and rock ‘n’ roll. In other words, Indy is not me,” I retorted and kept at it. “We’ve also sat down and she knows that she will not ever be involved in my business. She’s down with that.” I moved my gaze to Hank. “All of the Rock Chicks understand this and are down with it. So if that’s a concern, I assure you, that’s covered.”
“What Tom’s saying,” Dad put in, “is that, as fathers and brothers,” he tipped his head Lee and Hank’s way, “we’re worried.”
“As they go about their business, are you worried about Hank and Lee?” I asked.
“Every day,” Dad replied quietly, and my body locked. “It’s what fathers do, sweetheart.”
There was no retort to that.
So I didn’t give him one.
Instead, I said, just as quietly. “I get you and I love you for it. But this is what I want to do and I want to do it because I’m good at it and I like it. You know I’ve struggled to find my calling. I’m not struggling anymore. I’ve found it, Dad.”
And Dad had no retort for that. I knew because he didn’t give me one.
“Hector, Vance, Ike and Bobby, as well as Darius and Brody are backin’ your play, Ally,” Lee said, and I turned my attention to him, surprised and pleased at the unknown addition of Bobby. “And I’m not gettin’ in their shit about that. But they’re not your brothers and—”
I interrupted him. “Darius is.”
“You know what I mean,” Lee replied.
“And you know what I mean,” I returned softly.
His jaw clenched.
I held his eyes and kept speaking softly. “You can try to stop me. But you won’t. I know you have the means to do it. But I’ll keep going. Ren’s behind me. Daisy’s behind me and that means Marcus has my back, and you know Daisy’s support means I have Marcus’s support. You won’t sway him your way if Daisy is standing in between.”
His jaw clenched harder.
He knew.
“The Rock Chicks are backing this too, so if you think the rest of the men won’t fall, or at least won’t stand in my way, you’re wrong about that, too,” I went on.
A muscle jumped in his cheek.
He knew that, too.
“And I’ll finish with this,” I told him, still soft but firm, and my eyes went to Hank, Dad, Tom and even Monty but they ended back on Lee. “If you make moves to shut me down,” I looked to Hank, “Or you,” I looked through Dad, Tom and Monty again, “Any of you.” My eyes went back to Lee. “That hurt will dig deep. So deep I may get over it, eventually. What I won’t do is forgive you.”
Lee held my eyes.
I returned the gesture.
Since I had preparations to do and a date to make, I couldn’t do it for what it seemed it would take to win it.
Eternity.
So I broke the staredown and I moved to the door, but turned at it and swept a glance through them all again, my eyes ending on Hank and Lee.
“One last thing. There’s something wrong with Darius, and if you two haven’t clocked that, color me stunned. But I figure you have, and since you’re dudes and dudes don’t get up in the business of other dudes, you’re steering clear. A heads up: I’m done steering clear. I’m gonna sort that, and if I had your help, I’d be obliged.”
On that, I left.
And by the time I got in my car, I felt my throat burning. My eyes were hot and my hands were shaking.
Not from nerves or fear.
From emotion.
Because I honestly didn’t know which way any of them would swing.
I just knew I did not lie.
If they moved to shut me down, these people I loved I’d never forgive.
* * * * *
I opened the door to Ren’s place and smelled garlic.
What the hell?
I dumped my purse on an armchair and walked into the kitchen.
Ren was wearing jeans, a loose pale yellow shirt, sleeves rolled up, feet bare, and he was at the stove, a stove that held steaming pots and pans.
“What’s going on?” I asked and he turned to me.
“Kiss, Ally,” he ordered instead of telling me what was going on.
I walked to him, noting, “I thought we were going out.”
He again didn’t respond until I got close, put a hand to his abs and rolled up on my toes to touch my mouth to his.
When I rolled back but stayed close, he answered, “You didn’t wanna miss your show. I’m makin’ stuffed shells.”
Jeez.
I couldn’t take it.
Just when I thought my man couldn’t get any better, he did.
“We’ll go out tomorrow night,” he muttered.
I focused on him and saw his eyes were probing.
That was when, again, he got even better.
He did this by saying in his sweet voice, “The meet didn’t go well.”
He read me.
“Not really.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Nothing to say. They don’t want me in the business. That’s not a surprise. Now they have a decision to make because I already made mine.”
He nodded, read me again and did what I needed.
He let it go.
“You want me to turn on the sauna?” he asked.
That sounded awesome, but if I was in there, I wanted to be in there with him. Not up there alone and him downstairs cooking.
“No, baby,” I murmured. “But thanks.”
“Then sit your ass on the counter. I’ll get you a glass of wine and you can keep me company while I put the shells together.”
That sounded better so I complied and Ren got me a glass of wine.
I sipped.
Ren worked.
When he was nearly done, I got off the counter and got on cleaning the pots, pans and utensils so later clean up would be a snap.
I heard the oven door close then I felt arms wrap around me from behind at the same time I felt Ren’s hard heat at my back and his mouth at my ear.
“They’ll come around,” he whispered there.
I closed my eyes, opened them and rinsed a pot.
I put it in the drainer, saying, “I hope so.”
He gave me a squeeze. “I know so.”
I turned off the faucet and twisted my neck to look at him. “How do you know?”
“Because they love you.”
I pressed my lips together and my eyes got hot again.
Then he again gave me what I needed. He bent, kissed my neck and lifted to catch my eyes.
“We’ll eat in front of the TV. I’ll go turn it on.”
I nodded.
He grinned and gave me a squeeze.
He went to turn on the TV, came back and refilled our wine glasses.
I put the last pot in the drainer and followed my man to the TV to veg out and await stuffed shells.
* * * * *
“Jesus,” Ren muttered, and I tore my eyes off Castle to lift my head from where it was resting on his chest seeing as we were both stretched out on the couch, Ren on his back, me tucked to his side between him and the couch.
“What?”
“Jesus,” he repeated, eyes glued to the TV.
He was making me miss it!
“What?” I snapped.
He lifted a hand that held the remote and paused the show.
Then he turned his head to me. “Do you watch this show because of that woman?”
I felt my brows draw together. “What woman?”
“The brunette who’s the spittin’ image of you.”
What was he talking about?
“Do you mean Stana Katic?” I asked.
“I don’t know her name. The tall knockout brunette.”
Jeez. Did he think I looked like Stana Katic, otherwise known as the most beautiful woman on American television today?
“You think I look like Kate Beckett?” I asked.
“Who’s Kate Beckett?” he asked back.
“Stana Katic. She plays Detective Kate Beckett, Castle’s partner on the show. Or, more accurately, Castle’s her partner,” I informed him.
“Then no. If she’s the gorgeous, bossy, badass homicide detective I just watched for the last five minutes, I don’t think you look like her. I think she’s the spittin’ image of you.”
Wow.
Cool!
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Babe,” he muttered, his eyes wandering back to the TV where Beckett was paused having a conversation with Castle, “f*ck me, definitely seriously.”
This.
Was.
Awesome.
I didn’t share I felt that, nor did I tell him that wasn’t the reason I watched Castle (though it was part of it; Kate Beckett was the freaking bomb).
I just said the truth. “I never noticed.”
He looked back at me. “How could you not notice?”
I probably didn’t notice because I was paying more attention to Nathan Fillion.
Since this was the reason, the answer I gave Ren was a shrug.
Ren’s arm around me curled me closer, his head turned back to the TV and he hit play.
I turned my eyes to the TV and studied Kate Beckett.
She did kinda look like me.
Totally cool.
I relaxed into Ren and tangled my legs with his.
It was then it hit me we’d never done this, something totally normal like relaxing in front of a TV.
It also hit me it felt nice.
And last, it hit me that after a busy day that didn’t end great, this, just this, was exactly what I needed. A belly full of Ren’s cooking. A wine glass that, unless I wanted it to be, never was empty. A couch. A TV. A good show.
But most of all.
Ren.