“I won’t ask what the other stuff is. I will ask if spaghetti with a salad and garlic bread will suit you for dinner.”
“Yes, it will, and why ask when the sauce is already cooking? I can smell it.”
“I needed an excuse to come see what you’re doing.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “Daina called you ‘Hot Stuff.’ She also said you look at me like you could eat me up.”
“Yeah? How about that. Seems to me I already have.” His voice dropped a couple of notes and memory sent a frisson of pure sensual pleasure up her spine. “I plan on doing it again too.”
He was seducing her before she’d even had the promised spaghetti. Bo tried to remember if she’d ever been seduced before; she didn’t think she had. Two days ago she’d have said she didn’t want to be seduced, but that was two days ago.
She was happy, she thought with a little shock. Happy. She’d have said before that she was happy, certainly that she was content, but the fizz of euphoria in her veins showed her the difference.
Happy. It would take some getting used to.
Going back to work the next day, and taking Tricks with her, was more difficult than Bo had anticipated. As the clock ticked toward time to head to town, her sense of dread grew. She started to ask Morgan to keep Tricks at home for her, but when it was time to leave, he joined her. “I’m not ready to let you out of my sight,” he said flatly, scowling. “It’ll take me a while to get over seeing that son of a bitch pull his weapon and knowing I couldn’t take a shot.”
She’d felt much the same way, knowing there was nothing she could do to save Tricks. She looked at the dog, who was bouncing at the door in anticipation. “I’ve always felt she was better off with me, but being with me may put her in danger.”
“Only from Kyle Gooding, and the bastard won’t be poking his head out of a jail for quite a while.”
“He’ll get bail.”
“He could. But he won’t. He knows better.”
That was all Morgan said, but Bo got a clearer picture of why Kyle was going to plead guilty—and now she had no doubt that he would. Morgan was waiting for him if he got out of jail.
The citizens of Hamrickville had become accustomed enough to Morgan’s black Tahoe that any time they saw it, they expected Bo and Tricks to be inside. Morgan let down the windows so the people could see Tricks, and Tricks could collect her accolades. There seemed to be more people in town today than usual, so there were more calls of “Tricks!” and more waves. Tricks, of course, acted as if it were a continuation of the parade and began woofing happily, turning her head from side to side to include all her subjects.
Seeing that, seeing Tricks’s enjoyment and happiness, helped soothe Bo’s heart. She smiled back at Tricks, grateful that the dog was untouched by the terror that had so devastated her. She wanted Tricks to be happy and confident every day of her life.
Morgan parked behind the police station as he always did, and they went in the back. Bo was in front; she skidded to a stop when she saw what was at her desk, and Morgan bumped into her from behind, sending her lurching off balance. His arm immediately locked around her to support her, holding her against him until she was steady again.
A huge bouquet of balloons was anchored to her office chair, gently swaying and bobbing in the office air currents. Tricks froze, staring at the balloons for a moment before darting forward, her tail wagging madly as she planted herself under them, looking upward with such intensity Bo thought she might be plotting the trajectory needed to get to them. There had to be at least thirty of the things, in all colors, and they were definitely within Tricks’s leaping range.
“Those balloons are about to be toast,” Morgan said as he eased himself between Tricks and her target. He untied the strings from Bo’s chair and re-anchored the balloons to the handle on the top drawer of a tall filing cabinet. Tricks followed him, her dark gaze still locked on the tantalizing arrangement, then she turned her head and stared at the chair positioned beside the cabinet.
Bo said urgently, “Move the chair!” and Morgan whisked it away just as Tricks was gathering herself to leap into it, and from there to the balloons. Thwarted, Tricks gave a disgruntled huff and trotted to Bo’s desk, where she raised her nose to the edge and sniffed at a mystery box perched in the middle.
“Mayor Buddy brought the balloons,” Loretta announced, a disembodied voice rising from her cubicle across the office. “Daina brought the cookies.”
“Cookies,” Morgan said. He was fast; he reached the desk before Bo did and opened the box to examine the contents. “Chocolate chip for sure, probably sugar cookies, and what looks like sugar cookies with something reddish in them.”
“Snickerdoodles,” replied Loretta, still out of sight. “Don’t you know cookies?”
“I know Oreos. That’s all a man needs.” He offered the box to Bo. “They’re for you, so I’ll let you have first choice.”
“Gosh, that’s so big of you,” she said and took one of each variety. Tricks began bouncing up and down at the sight and smell; because it was evidently a day for treats, Bo broke off a bite of a sugar cookie and held it down for her.
Looking at the pile of paperwork on her desk, Bo sighed. That was what taking a day off work got her: double the paper. There was nothing to do but get started, so she did, with her chosen cookies lying on a napkin to the side. Morgan brought a cup of coffee and set it next to the cookies, then took himself over to have a chat with Loretta.