Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)

Jo searched for a strung out teenage girl and came up short.

Outside, they walked around the back of the building and then met at her Jeep. Gill had his phone in his hand. “The Instagram account is private.”

“It’s probably nothing.”

“I don’t know. This is exactly the kind of thing these dealers are moving these days. Social media has given them access to lots of clients.” He started typing into his phone, took a picture of the card. “I’m sending this to Shauna. Her fake account will request access to this person.”

“Shauna has a fake Instagram account?”

“We both do,” he said, grinning. “It’s easy to be a teenage kid looking for dope online.”

“Or a sixty-year-old pedophile looking for prey.”

Gill shoved his phone into his back pocket. “Exactly.”

“Can we do anything else here?”

Gill lifted his hand to hers and pulled her close when she grasped it. “I’m pretty sure what I want to do is frowned upon in pizza parlor parking lots.”

The feel of his hand wrapping around her waist made her sigh. “And what do you want to do?”

He buried his lips in her hair, whispered in her ear, “It involves handcuffs.”

The thought shouldn’t have shot a thrill down her spine. The handcuff thing was a joke that had started when she took the badge. Jo squirmed. “Who said I like handcuffs?”

The deep grumble of his laugh gave promise to the evening. “That didn’t sound like denial.”

She smoothed her hand over his hip, pinched his ass. “You first.”





Chapter Twenty-Four




Jo was aware of soft lips on the back of her shoulder.

Gill.

Even through closed eyelids she could tell the sun had barely started to rise. She moaned and burrowed deeper into her pillow.

Gill’s teeth scraped her shoulder.

I can get used to this.

“You’re not asleep.”

“Yes, I am,” she muttered.

He kissed her again.

She opened one eye, peeked over the shoulder he was claiming. “You’re dressed.”

Gill rested his chin in her shoulder, the freshness of his breath, the soap on his skin told her she’d slept through him getting up and taking a shower. “I have to leave.”

“Why?” She rolled over, didn’t try to cover herself when the sheet slipped to reveal her naked breasts.

Gill’s gaze wandered. “That Instagram account hit a hotspot. I’m meeting Shauna in twenty minutes.”

Jo moaned, more than a little disappointed to have to share him.

“Sorry.” He leaned down, kissed the top of one breast.

“I understand.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

She glanced across the room at the digital clock on his side of the bed. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I wanted to spend the day with you.”

“I have things to do at home anyway. No worries.” She didn’t, but letting him off the hook felt like the right thing to do.

He sat taller on the bed. “Take your time.”

She closed her eyes and grinned. “I’m going to find your little black book and erase all the numbers,” she threatened.

When he didn’t tease her back, she opened her eyes to find him staring, his expression endearing.

“What?” she asked.

Gill didn’t say a thing. Instead, he bent down and touched his lips to hers, made sure his kiss reached the depths of her soul before pulling back.

Aroused and missing him already, she asked, “What was that for?”

“For being here.”

Jo reached up and touched his cheek.

He leaned into her palm.

“Be safe.”

He kissed her palm and stood from the bed.

She leaned onto her elbows, watched as he tucked his service weapon into the holster inside his jacket. “Good luck finding that black book,” he said when he reached the door.

“Oh, I’ll find it.”

Gill shook his head once and paused. “I threw it away in Virginia, when I knew I’d see you again.”

And then he was gone.

Jaw slack, his words sank in. And in a completely girlie fashion, Jo flopped back on the bed with a silly grin on her face. Her fingers landed on a pair of handcuffs on his side of the bed. Images of the previous night had her giggling.

And Jo never giggled.



“You know what the problem is with these puppies?” Zoe asked.

Jo had lingered in Gill’s space longer than she thought she would. For fun, she left a few notes throughout his house saying she’d searched the drawers or the cupboards for his black book, when in fact the only thing she’d done was clean up after them and make his bed. She’d deny sniffing his pillow if asked. Now she sat on the floor with a litter of puppies and the small bottles needed to feed their hungry mouths. “What’s that?”

Zoe petted the head of the puppy she was feeding. “They grow on you.”

“You’re caving.”

“I don’t need a dog.”

Three of the animals were sleeping, sprawled on top of each other, while the others were bouncing about, one particularly noisy since it hadn’t been fed.

“Good thing they are off to Luke’s parents’ tomorrow.”

The puppies had made the rounds. Every family member, every friend, even the neighbors had taken turns with the furry bundles. Cherie couldn’t look at them without crying. No one in River Bend was willing to make her look at them. The older dogs were taken in by Luke’s parents, and animal control had backed off once word got out about Jezebel’s demise.

Zoe cooed. “I don’t need a dog.”

She was a goner.

Jo refused to let the tiny tongue that was licking her hand affect her emotions. Even when the owner of that tiny tongue crawled on her lap and circled three times before nestling into the crook in the back of her knee. No. The animal had no effect on her.

None whatsoever.

“You don’t need a dog,” Zoe said, laughing.

Jo glared. “We don’t need dogs.”

“I’m so screwed.”

Jo laughed.

“Tell me about Gill. Take my mind off my doom.” Zoe cuddled the animal that had her name on it.

“I’m not sure I can. He’s . . .” Jo blew out a breath. “Unexpected.”

“Elaborate, please.”

The map of their relationship sat before her and she still couldn’t figure out where she stood. She looked for the space where an arrow pointed, stating “you are here,” and she couldn’t find it. “I’m not like you . . . not like Mel.”

“In what way?”

“I’m not a serial monogamist.”

Zoe blinked a few times. “Serial what?”

“I’m not a relationship girl. I don’t know that I can truly say I’ve ever had one. Not with any regularity.”

Zoe looked to the ceiling for answers. Didn’t find them. “What about after high school? Wasn’t there someone in Waterville?”

“Do you remember his name?”

Zoe shook her head.

“Exactly. I had . . . there were a couple of guys. None stuck. Once I turned into River Bend’s finest . . . there was less than that.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s true.”

“Doesn’t make it less sad.”