“Then Gill slips into my life like a knife in butter and I’m sitting here daydreaming about the man.”
That had Zoe smiling . . . all toothy like. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It can’t last.” The reality of that hit hard.
“Why not?”
“We’re both cops. Kinda.”
Zoe stared. “What does that mean?”
“Do you know what the divorce rate is for those with a badge?”
Zoe’s stare turned into a grin. “Did he ask you to marry him?”
“Oh, good God, no.” Jo almost choked.
Her friend’s smile fell. “Then why are you worried about divorce?”
“I’m not. I’m saying . . . it can’t last. Even the way it is, it can’t last.”
“Why the hell not?”
Why the hell not? Jo closed her eyes, saw her father . . . smelled the distant memory of her mother’s perfume. Then she pictured Gill. He stood in the suit she saw him in that first day in Virginia. He was standing in a parking lot, one like that of the pizza parlor. From nowhere, shots fired.
She flinched.
“I think you’re coming up with excuses.”
“Cops die, and marriages fail. It just won’t work.”
When Jo opened her eyes, she took in Zoe’s. In them were tears.
“When did you know Consuela was the one?”
The question sat in the air for a good minute before Lee answered.
“Is she the one?”
“Christ, Lee . . . how do you know?”
Gill’s best friend laughed over the phone. “You could do a lot worse.”
“Don’t I know it.” The images of countless others swam before him. Blondes, brunettes . . . and the redheads. Lord knew they were all wrong. Right for right then but wrong to be left alone in his home. Wrong for being stuck in his head like an endless loop of a love song he couldn’t shake.
“If it’s any consolation, I like Jo. She’s a little guarded, but that’s to be expected.”
“How so?”
“She’s an orphan, Gill.”
The word orphan never entered his head. Yet when he thought of it, he saw a child standing on a street corner, looking around for someone to take care of them. “I never thought of her that way.”
“That’s because she’s an expert at hiding it.”
Gill sat looking at one of the half dozen notes Jo had left throughout his home, her handwriting burned into his memory. Your kitchen is a mess . . . do you ever cook? He’d laughed when he found that in his cupboard. He remembered when he’d gone through her kitchen and found it overboard neat. Remembered how happy he was to see her sloppy in her refrigerator.
“She doesn’t fake anything.”
“I didn’t say fake. I said hiding. Faking is on purpose, hiding is defensive. One is protective, the other is deceptive.”
“How the hell did you become so perceptive?”
Lee laughed. “Do you know how many people look past you when you’re in a wheelchair? I have more opportunity to study people than anyone else.”
Gill sighed. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one?”
“When did you know Consuela was the one?”
Another long pause. “Why are you and Jo working?”
“Well, the sex—”
“You can get sex anywhere.”
Lee was right about that. “I don’t know . . . she’s the right amount of angel, the perfect amount of she-devil. She likes the Harley and carries a badge for reasons bigger than her.”
“Reminds me of someone I know.”
“I’m not an angel.”
“Why do you wear a badge?”
Gill didn’t have a reason like Jo’s. “It’s what I know.”
“The case you’re working on . . . what’s the name of the last victim?”
“Pete Shafer.” His answer was immediate. The image of the kid who would never see his eighteenth birthday swam in his head.
“Your Pete is almost like Jo’s father. Jo’s might be personal, but they are both just as important. That is what makes Jo attractive to you.”
“Jo’s a knockout without any of that.”
“I’m not going to disagree. But looks are temporary. The part of Jo that has you coming to me asking what made me realize my woman was the one is staring you in the face.”
“I thought opposites were supposed to attract.”
“Balance, my friend. She reminds you of your rebellious nature, and I’m guessing you do the same for her.”
Gill couldn’t help but laugh. “My rebellious half wouldn’t have spent the last ten minutes talking about relationships.”
“Mr. Rebellion rushes forth and does things, Mr. Responsibility spends time burning your friend’s ear about girls.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jo rested her head against the crook of her arms on her desk. The statements of Drew, Tina, and Cherie swam in her vision like the drops a doctor put in your eyes to dilate them. Only these drops didn’t make her see better . . . they blurred and diffused everything.
She’d questioned the neighbors, the very people who had complained about the dogs barking.
Every one of those neighbors had offered support to Cherie after Jezebel had been found. Not one of them was capable of taking a pet’s life as a vendetta.
So who held the grudge?
Footsteps at her office door had her jumping.
Glynis was out for lunch and the sound wasn’t expected.
“Karl?”
Her deputy stared from the doorway. “When are you going to butt out of my kid’s life?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Drew is talking about joining the service . . . the marines. Sound familiar?”
She opened her mouth only to have Karl cut her off.
“Looks like your boyfriend talked him into it. Caroline is beside herself. Cried all night.”
“Hold up. Gill told all the kids about his time in the service, I wouldn’t say he talked anyone into anything. When Drew said he was considering it, I was just as surprised as you.”
Karl wasn’t listening. With hands on his service belt and attitude in his scowl, Jo would have been concerned if she didn’t know the man. “That’s not how I heard it. Seems every time I turn around these days, my son is talking about the influence you have on him.”
“I’m his coach, Karl. And up until recently, I thought I was a friend to his father.” She placed both hands on her desk. “It appears that I’m wrong about the latter.”
“Drew was going to college. Not joining the military.”
“What’s wrong with the service?”
“Boys from small towns always come home in a box. I don’t want that for my kid.”
Jo shook her head. “You’re exaggerating.”
“If Drew wants to join, he should finish college and enlist as an officer. Not go in as a grunt.”
“Have you told him that?”
“He didn’t listen. Just went on about your boyfriend and how badass he is.”
Badass had been tossed around a lot.
She stood and attempted to change the conversation. “What is all this really about, Karl? You’ve been riding my ass like you’re my boss and not the other way around.”
Karl’s nose flared. Jo was sincerely grateful that looks couldn’t kill.
“Your hand in my personal life isn’t wanted. Lately, you haven’t been doing your job here either.”
Making It Right (Most Likely To #3)
Catherine Bybee's books
- Not Quite Mine (Not Quite series)
- Wife by Wednesday(Weekday Brides Series)
- Not Quite Dating
- Taken by Tuesday
- Fiance by Friday (Weekday Brides Series)
- Not Quite Enough
- Not Quite Mine(Not Quite series)
- Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7)
- Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)
- Staying For Good (Most Likely To #2)