Page 95 of Dining for Love
I shake my head, baffled. “What the hell was his plan? Especially today?”
Ox scoffs. “That idiot thought he’d be getting a million cash for turning you in. Best I can tell, without actually talking to him, is that he was going to take the money and skip town.”
“How’d you get the intel if you didn’t get it from him?”
“The guy I nabbed running out of the diner. Squealed like a piglet. Impressive, really—but I think he’s hoping we’ll put him somewhere the Bunnies can’t get to him.”
I snort. “Good luck with that.”
Ox eyes me. “Agree. Anyway, did I hear the medic say you’ve got a concussion?”
I wave it off. “I’m fine. I know there’s paperwork?—”
“Get outta here with that shit,” Ox says. “Go home, cuddle with your woman, and take a few days off. I’ve got it all under control.”
“But—”
“No buts.It may seem like we’re a small force, but there reallyareenough of us to handle this town without you. And Thompson. And Chief,” he says with a wink. Then he leans forward. “Wanna see something?”
“Um, maybe?”
He gestures for me to walk with him. A few feet away sits the cruiser with Thompson in the back, and we walk up to it and look in. I give him a shit-eating grin when he looks my way.
He mouths a few choice words that start with F and sound a lot like “duck” and “ewe,” but I just wave and grin a little wider.
“Being in the back is a good look for Thompson, don’t you think?” Ox asks.
“Might be the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
Willa approaches. “Let me take you home.”
Twin feelings of hope and despair war within me. “It’s okay. I can get myself home. Your family needs you.”
She gives me a look. “Reid. I’m trying to take care of you. Let me do that.”
I swallow hard. “I…okay.”
I call my Miami chief to update him, but I keep the call brief, explaining I’ll give full details later today or tomorrow. Then I look at Willa, who’s staring at me and chewing on her nail. “Ready?”
She nods distractedly, then gestures down the street. “I parked down there.”
We’re quiet on the ride home. My head hurts, but my heart hurts worse. I told her I loved her, and she didn’t say it back. Is this what she felt like when the roles were reversed?
It sucks.
When Willa finally gets us home after driving like a granny, she insists on me taking a shower and changing clothes. I want to argue with her about it, tell her that I’m perfectly fine, but the truth of it is, I’ll do whatever shetells me to.
When I emerge from the shower in my favorite pair of gray sweatpants and a ratty tee, I find her sitting on my couch. Her eyes rake over me, and I allow myself to wonder what it would feel like to have this every day. What kind of miracle would it be to have Willa Dean Dash’s love on a daily basis? To bask in it? To wake up to it, and endlessly work to be worthy of it? Of her?
“Reid,” she starts.
But I shake my head and close the distance to her. “I need to say something first.” I don’t give her a chance to react before I’m on the couch beside her, pulling her hands to mine.
“I’m not leaving.” I blurt the words out as fast as I can get them, and the way her eyes widen tells me thatmaybeI was a little intense with it. No matter. I keep going.
“I told you I loved you when I came to, and you didn’t say it back. And that’s okay—I don’t want you to say it if you don’t feel the same way.”
“Reid—”