But his Ma was right. He’d fixed it. He just had to tell her why he did what he did and Reesee forgave him right away.
Now it was warm, it was May, the crop was in, it was growing, things had settled down and when school was out he was looking forward to bringing Rees here in her bathing suit.
“I love you, Finley.”
Fin blinked at the creek but he felt his body go stone-still.
Then he whispered, “What?”
She lifted her head off his gut, got up on her forearm in the blanket and her eyes locked right on his. Right on them. Straight up. No hiding.
And he saw it there. What he’d been seeing for a while. What he’d been seeing almost since the beginning.
Then she gave him the words that went with what he saw in her eyes.
“I love you,” she repeated.
God. Jesus, fuck. God.
That felt good.
He braced his weight against one elbow, lifted his hand, cupped her jaw and whispered back, “I love you too, babe.”
She smiled at him and, God, Jesus, fuck, God her smile felt good too.
Then she moved until her hand was flat and warm on his tee over his chest and she whispered, “Please don’t ever do that to me again.”
Not knowing why he did it, his hand moved to her neck then around to the back and he put gentle pressure there. She felt it and moved to him until her lips were on his. He touched them in a soft brush and released the pressure on her neck so she move back an inch.
“I promise you, Reesee, I’ll never do that to you again,” he whispered back.
“Thank you, Fin.” She was still whispering.
“Thank you for taking me back.” He wasn’t whispering anymore but his voice was weird, low and rumbling.
Her lips quirked in that sweet smile of hers before she remarked, “We were broken up for all of about half an hour. I didn’t have time to build up a grudge.”
“Thank God for that,” Fin muttered.
Her full smile shone through.
Seeing it, his eyes dropped to her mouth.
Then his hand put pressure on her neck.
And when her lips hit his again, the kiss he gave his girl was not a brush.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Black Day
The next day…
Mike walked out of the closet through the room lit by the early light of dawn to the bed.
Layla watched him.
Dusty didn’t. Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn’t asleep.
He wrapped his hand around the side of her neck, bent in and kissed her temple.
“I’m calling the networks,” she muttered as he pulled away, eyes still closed, face partly smushed by the pillow. “They need to make an announcement that crime needs to sleep in. Especially on Sundays.”
Mike stared down at her.
Then he ordered, “Don’t leave the house or farm all day.”
He watched her eyes scrunch to close hard as her brow furrowed then she opened her eyes and turned her head on the pillow to look up at him.
“Sorry?” she asked.
“Don’t get in a car. Stay close to the house or farm all day. I don’t know how long this’ll take me. Just promise you’ll stick close and you’ll keep the kids close too. I’ll write them a note before I go.”
She pushed up to an elbow and held his eyes.
Then she asked quietly, “Why?”
Why?
He had no fucking clue why.
All he knew was that weight was heavy in his gut. Like a rock. And that morning, the minute he got the call to go into the Station and deal with some shit, he felt it start burning.
That day was a black day. He didn’t know how it was going to happen. He just knew it would.
He was missing something. There was a threat out there. He thought it was LeBrec but he’d called Rivera just the day before and Rivera reported that LeBrec had a new woman now. LeBrec had moved on.
So it wasn’t LeBrec.
But it sure as fuck was something.
“Just please, honey, do as I say,” he said instead of answering.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“No,” he answered.
She pushed up further. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Just a feelin’. And I gotta go. So do me a favor, help me out and promise me you and the kids’ll stay close all day.”
She studied him through the dawn light.
Then, just like Dusty, she gave him what he needed.
“Okay, babe,” she whispered.
He replaced his hand on her neck, bent back in as he pulled her to him and gave her another touch of the lips.
Then he let her go and moved away.
Layla, as if sensing he wanted her where she was, didn’t move from her position at Dusty’s feet.
At the door, he looked back and saw she was still up, now on a hand, her long hair mussed around her shoulders, her eyes on him.
“Love you, Angel,” he told her.
“Love you too, Mike,” she replied.
He stared at her with his dog in his bed, unconsciously memorizing the view.
Four hours later, he would be glad he did.
*
Three hours, forty-five minutes later…