Once they disappeared down the short hallway, Madeline wandered along the interior wall, studying the array of photographs displayed there. As on Ash’s shelves, studio or posed images shared space with spur-of-the-moment snapshots. She touched a fingertip to Ash’s grinning face in one. Maybe, just maybe, she could get used to this live-with-me, be-my-love idea of his.
She’d pulled off a solid week without fucking it up yet. That had to count for something.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Caitlin’s quiet voice startled her. Madeline spun to find the other woman at the foot of the stairs. “Did they abandon you to retreat into farm-talk again?”
“Something like that.”
“You look good.” An enigmatic smile played about Caitlin’s mouth.
Narrowing her eyes, Madeline tucked her hair behind her ear. “What is that all about?”
If anything, Caitlin’s smile widened. “What do you mean?”
“You and your damn subtext, Falconetti.” She sketched a gesture between them. “I look good?”
“You’re different than when you first came back, Madeline. More relaxed, more real. So yes, you look good.” Caitlin turned toward the kitchen. “I’m going to get some tea while I toss this salad. Want some?”
“There you go again, with your tea-and-friendship routine.” Madeline waved her goblet. Ice tinkled against the glass.
“Can a girl ever have too many friends?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” She perched on a stool at the island. “You’ve seen my taste in friends.”
“Former friends.” With the kettle on, Caitlin pulled a cellophane-covered bowl from the refrigerator. “Lifetime-ago, not-the-same-person-anymore friends. Maybe it’s time you cultivated some new ones.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Madeline rolled the stem of her goblet between her hands. “Dinner smells good. Thanks for having us.”
“I’ve been looking forward to it.” Caitlin added chopped tomato and green pepper to the greens, then followed up with a drizzle of vinaigrette. “I adore Lee, but sometimes I need some adult company after spending all day with him. Tick tells me you went to see Cressley’s investigator about Allison’s first husband’s death today.”
Madeline darted a glance at her, but found nothing but polite curiosity in her expression. “We did. He said he’d look into it.”
“Sometimes, as hard as it is to accept, that’s the best you can hope for.” With the salad tossed, Caitlin lifted the kettle and poured steaming water into her mug. “How’s your second week been? Better than the first?”
“Are you kidding? Armageddon would be better than last week.” Madeline faked a shudder, and Caitlin laughed, husky and soft. “Is this where I’m supposed to spill all my issues and you tell me how to fix them over your hot tea there?”
“I thought you said we weren’t going to have tea and bond.”
“I know.” Madeline feathered a hand through her hair. “I’m not good at bonding, period. I did make an entire lunch with Autry the other day, just me and her. My mother isn’t speaking to me yet, but at least I can spend an hour with my sister without the same old sniping.”
“Well, that’s an improvement.” A winsome smile curved Caitlin’s mouth. “My brother and I can’t go five minutes without sniping.”
“It’s weird. She’s probably the one person I should have the most in common with, and I can’t get past the polite niceties with her. Maybe it’s been too long.”
Caitlin shrugged. “Sometimes, it’s easier to forge bonds with people outside our families. Look at Tick. He and his brothers are pretty close, but he’s probably more closely bonded to Ash or even Reed or Cookie. Believe me, as much as I love Vince, I have old friends with whom I share a closer tie. Considering the length of your estrangement, it doesn’t surprise me that you don’t feel close to her yet. But give it time.”
Time. She could do that. She’d never thought she’d be able to stay longer than ten minutes in the same room with Tick Calvert without coming apart with sick nerves, and hell, they were settling into a working ease as if they’d been doing it for years.
Perhaps fixing her relationship with her sister wasn’t impossible.
Minutes later, the men rejoined them, and as laughter and conversation unfolded over the table, Madeline slowly relaxed further. The sense of comfort wrapped around her, lingering even on the drive back to Ash’s.
“Tonight was fun.” She rubbed at her arms while he unlocked the door.
“It was.” He ushered her inside, but she didn’t miss the wince that crossed his face.
She tapped his chest on her way to put her cell on charge. “You need to take a painkiller and get some sleep…”
Her voice trailed away. She stared at the display on her phone, the familiar number under the words “missed call”.
“What is it?” Tension coated his voice.
“I don’t know yet. I must have missed a call while we were in the dead zone.” She dialed her voice mail and lifted the phone to her ear, letting the familiar voice, the words both hoped for and dreaded wash over her. Her chest fluttered, tightened, fluttered again. With shaking fingers, she closed the phone.
“Madeline? What is it?”
She put the phone down and turned to face him. “I have to go back.”
“Back?”
“To Jacksonville.” She blew out a breath. “The message was from Blaine Railey, one of the detectives investigating Jack’s shooting. They want me to meet with the chief of the division.”
“Mad.” He took a step toward her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m…I’m good.” Her hands still shook and she rubbed them down her thighs. “I didn’t expect it to be this soon.”
Nerves twisted in her belly. Were they taking her back or was her career in Jacksonville over? And if they were taking her back, what did that mean for her and Ash?
He was thinking the same thing—she could see it in the sudden wariness tightening his face.
“I have to…I’m supposed to meet with them at nine tomorrow morning.” She shoved a hand through her hair. “I should call Tick and then I’m going to head out—”
“Tonight?”
She nodded. “I can spend the night at my place and not have to fight the outlying traffic on the way in.”
He passed a hand over his nape, a stunned look on his face. “Are you coming back?”
Startled, she stared at him. “I…I don’t know yet.”
“I see.” He leaned on the opposite wall.
“Ash, I just…” Desperation bit at her. “I don’t even know how this is going to go. I don’t know what I’m doing yet.”
“I understand.” He cleared his throat. “You have to do what’s best for you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” The words tore free of her constricted throat. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted—”
“Babe.” A half-smiled hitched one corner of his mouth, although his eyes remained serious. “You’re not gonna hurt me. Jacksonville is four hours away by car, half that if I fly. If that’s where you want to be, we’ll find a way to make it work.”
No ultimatums? No my-way-or-the-highway? She pulled herself short. He wasn’t her father; making negative expectations based on her interactions with Virgil Holton wasn’t fair to the man standing before her, who’d been nothing but steady and patient, who never expected more than she could give.
“You’re great, did you know that?” She reached for him with trembling hands and wrapped her arms about him. She sighed into his throat. “I love you, Hardison.”
They froze. She felt every muscle in Ash’s body go still. Shit damn fuck, had she just said that?
She pulled back, afraid to meet his eyes, and when she did, found them glowing with joy. She shook her head. “I didn’t say that. I didn’t.”
He laughed and tugged her closer. “Yes, you did, and babe, I’ve never heard sweeter words in my life.”
She wagged a finger. “Don’t go getting ideas—”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He ducked his head to kiss her. “If you’re set on going to Jacksonville tonight, you’d better call Tick.”
With an odd sense of reluctance dragging at her, she slipped from his easy embrace. “I guess.”
“Want some company for the ride?” He cleared his throat. “Or some moral support for tomorrow?”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “You’d do that?”
He simply looked at her and she sighed. “I’d like to have you with me, but I know you have stuff to do here.”
“Like what? Stare at the walls and go nuts?” His expression gentled. “C’mon, Mad. Part of this deal is we do the hard stuff together. You walked me through mine. Now it’s my turn to walk you through yours.”
Her eyes prickled. “Thank you.”
“Go make your call. I’ll start packing a bag.”
When they got to Jacksonville long after midnight, her neighborhood was dark. Pulling into her tiny spot felt familiar but held no sense of homecoming. After killing the engine, she rubbed damp palms over her knees. “Well, this is it.”
“It’s nice.” He released his seatbelt and eased from the car, testing his knee. Moving gingerly, he shouldered his bag and she grabbed hers from the backseat as well.
“Come on.” She slipped an arm about his waist to offer support as they went up the walk. On the narrow stairs leading to the garage apartment she’d rented forever, she preceded him, taking quick glances back to check on his progress.
The lock stuck, just like always, and she jiggled the key. The door swung open and she fumbled for the switch. Light flooded the one-room space. Suddenly nervous and intensely aware of Ash behind her at the doorway, she tried to view her home through his eyes.
The neat space seemed impersonal, filled with furniture that came with the apartment. A couple of photos graced the surface of the refrigerator, but beyond the tiny stuffed red devil on one end of the sofa, the room contained no authentic personal touches.
She dropped her bag next to the sofa. “Like I said, this is it.”
He set his own bag down and shut the door. His gaze fell on the devil. “He’s cute.”
“It’s nothing.” She shrugged and turned away, her throat tight. “Jack’s idea of a joke.”
“He was your friend.”
A shuddery breath tore free of her frozen lungs. “Yes. He was.”
Ash watched her a moment. “I’m sorry, Madeline.”
Sudden tears spilled down her face, and a sob scratched her throat. “So am I.”
“Ah, babe.” He limped across the room to her. “Come here.”
She let him enfold her and didn’t bother to deny the tears. She turned her face into his neck and wept.
“Let it out, baby,” he whispered against her hair. “Let it out.”
Harsh sobs wracked her and he fumbled them onto the couch, his harsh intake of breath close to her ear.
“I’m sorry.” She held him closer. “Your knee.”
“It’s okay.” He rested his mouth at her temple. “You’re what’s important. It’s okay to cry, baby. Sometimes you just need to.”
She nodded, her hitching sob cut off by a wide yawn. Ash rubbed a hand down her back. “You’re wiped out. You need some rest.”
“My bed isn’t as big as yours.” She murmured the words into the curve of his throat. “It’s only a double.”
“I think we’ll fit. Besides, I like being close to you.” He smoothed damp hair away from her cheek. “Come on. I’m tired too.”
Amber illumination from the security light outside filtered into her bedroom. She flipped back the covers then shed her clothing while Ash stripped off his shirt and struggled out of his jeans. She snagged his shirt and pulled it over her head to serve as a nightgown, the soft cotton wrapping her in his remaining warmth and scent.
With a shaky sigh, she crawled into bed and into his arms. Exhaustion suffused her, but her grief for Jack and the apprehension about what morning would hold kept her eyes wide open. She huddled closer to Ash and tried to regulate her breathing. He needed to rest, even if she couldn’t.
Long minutes passed in silence. Ash feathered his hand over her shoulder. “Mad?”
“Yes?” Her voice came out small and too sad for her liking.
“Would talking about it help?”
“I’m frightened.” She pressed her cheek closer to his chest, warm skin doing little to alleviate the chill holding her prisoner. She aligned her fingertips to his ribs, his pulse bumping under her palm with soothing steadiness. “This is almost as bad as waiting at the hospital. I was sure he was gone. I’d seen his chest and… Oh God, I’m scared, Ash.”
He wrapped his finger in her hair. “What happened, baby?”
“I didn’t stop him. That’s what happened.” She sucked in a breath that felt like ground glass. “It had been a…a bad year. Jack had always been impulsive. Yeah, imagine me saying that about someone else, but our impulses…they were different. I get a hunch and I act on it, but the hunches come from the investigation, you know? Jack just acted, then he’d sort things out later. I still don’t get it, but we were a good team. Our case closure rate was one of the highest in the department. But last year, after his marriage went to hell, things weren’t good.”
Ash didn’t speak, but slid his palm up to cup her nape, working at the tight muscles there.
Madeline squeezed her eyes closed against what came next, but the images lingered, seared into her memory. “We went out on one of my hunches, to reinterview a witness linked to a drug-deal shooting. I was sure the guy was lying to us because the suspect was his cousin and I wanted one more go at him, especially. He lived in a rat-hole duplex, one of those with the stairways straight up the middle. As we get there, Jack thinks he sees the suspect go in the house. Before I could call for backup, he went sprinting in, up those stairs. He didn’t even kill the engine.”