A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,119

again crap? You haven’t bought me coffee yet. I seem to remember someone forgetting his wallet last time.”

He laughed and hung up.

“I thought he was retired,” Levi said.

“He is. He just helps out when I need him.”

“I know the feeling.”

She couldn’t argue that, but the way he said it, like she only called him when she needed help with a case. Not that he was wrong. She did only call him when she needed help with a case, but to call otherwise would imply they had a relationship of some kind. And the phone worked both ways. If he wanted to see her more often, he damned well knew where to find her. By the time she’d worked up the nerve to tell him that very thing, they were back at the station and thus Levi’s truck.

He got out of the cruiser and turned toward her. The analytical once-over he gave her piqued her curiosity, especially when he said, “You can do better than Womack.”

He closed the door before she could question him.

25

Reason You Need Coffee #247:

It’s difficult to work with your eyes closed.

—SIGN AT CAFFEINE-WAH

Levi’s words threw her. Did he honestly think she and Womack were a thing? She loved the older man. Had for years. But not like she loved Levi. Because she did. She loved Levi.

The truth hit her hard. It was more than a schoolgirl crush and had been for years. Decades, probably.

Sun dwelled on that fact as she showered and changed into fresh clothes. The fact that her longtime affection for the man had turned into a deep and fervent love, almost desperate in its depth. Painful in its scope. It would be impossible to pinpoint an exact place or time it happened. Maybe it had always been the vibrant thing that it was today. Maybe she’d been in denial.

Nah.

After driving to her office, she suffered through an afternoon of briefings and interviews and paperwork, all punctuated with a constant barrage of texts to her parents to check up on the kids.

When she got back to the hospital room, she found her mom reading in a chair, her dad snoring on a built-in love seat, and her daughter gone.

“She snuck out?” she asked, appalled. She gaped at her mom. “Didn’t we just talk about this?”

Her mom jumped to her feet, shushed her with an index finger over her mouth—Sun’s, not hers—and led her across the hall. “We keep finding her like this,” she whispered when Sun saw Auri curled up beside Cruz, careful not to put any weight on his wounds. Their arms were interlaced. Her face centimeters from his.

Sun felt like the Grinch when his heart started swelling painfully in his chest. “How is she?”

“A little dizzy, but no pain. She ate well, too, considering.”

“Has it sunk in that they had to shave part of her head yet?”

“No. We’re going to let her stay in denial as long as possible.”

“And Cruz?”

“He only wakes up when the nurses come in and make Auri go to her own bed. He’s delirious, starts fighting them until they finally let her come back just to calm him down.”

Sun shook her head. “I never wanted this for her,” she told her mom. “This intense of a relationship at so young an age.”

“You can hardly blame her. You were the same way.”

“What? I was never this intense when I dated. I don’t think I ever fell in love. Not really.”

“Because your love, your intensity, was focused elsewhere.”

They’d known how she felt about Levi almost before she knew it herself.

“I got this, Mom. You two go home and get some rest.”

“I’m only going to agree to this because your dad will pay for it dearly if he sleeps like that all night. But we’ll be back in a few hours.”

After they left, she sat on the recliner beside Auri. Cruz opened his eyes and looked at her over the girl in his arms.

She stood. “Hey, handsome. Do you need anything?”

His lids drifted shut as though he couldn’t hold them open, but he fought and won, if only for a few minutes. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“For what, baby?”

“I tried to stop him.”

“Cruz, you saved my daughter’s life. And you almost paid for that with your own. I owe you everything.”

He looked away, unconvinced.

“Cruz,” she said softly, “why didn’t you tell us about your dad?”

He pressed his mouth together, then said, “They would’ve taken me away. Probably would’ve sent me to my dad’s foster dad in