Mayo taco and tequila crawl on Main Street. I’d thrown my back out doing the limbo at the lakeshore, and passed out in the sun.
Good times. Great times.
And exceedingly difficult to recover from.
Much less live down.
To this day, I still felt a small twinge in my back if I twisted too far in the wrong direction.
Thank God there was no video evidence this time.
I picked up the thimble and stuck it on my index finger, not able to help the groan of embarrassment that rose in my throat over the ridiculousness of the thing. The tangible reminder of the nervous breakdown I’d had the moment I realized I wanted this woman in my future, and that the chances of that actually happening were slim to none.
Speaking of twinges.
The muffled sound of Clarice’s laughter came from the hall, combined with the thunk of something heavy. “It’s been wonderful,” I heard her say.
Was she leaving?
Oh no, she wasn’t.
Not without providing what she owed me. Answers.
I flung my door open, rushing into the hall to see Betty at the top of the stairs, smiling as Clarice descended, a carry-on travel bag in her hand.
“Wait!” I said, following her.
She glanced back at me, but kept going, only stopping when she’d made it to the bottom, setting her bag on the floor. “Stop accosting me, Chief.”
“Accosting you? I’m not accosting you!” I’d only demanded answers from her twice before when I’d left for work and caught sight of her in the hallway, and both times she’d stealthily evaded me by slipping into a room and flipping the lock.
She was obviously practiced at dodging, likely due to leaving a slew of deeply unsatisfied customers in her wake.
I stood in front of her, reaching out, grabbing her hands and closing my eyes. “Tell me what you see,” I demanded.
“I see a man who’s wearing a donkey thimble.”
“Forget the donkey thimble,” I said, flustered, gripping tighter.
“Honestly, it will be difficult to forget that.”
I opened my eyes, giving her a glare. Her shoulders lifted and fell in a long-suffering sigh. “I gave you two paths,” she said, pulling her hands from mine, picking up her bag and heading toward the front door.
I followed. “They’re the same!”
She turned suddenly and I came up short. “I will clarify one thing for you,” she said, squinting as though trying to put whatever she was about to say in just the right words. “One of the two paths holds deep regret.”
My mouth set. “Wow, so much clearer. Which path will I choose?”
She laughed shortly, turning again and moving away. “Consider it carefully!” she sang over her shoulder, opening the door.
“You’re a quack, you know that?” I called.
She laughed merrily. “Aren’t we all, Chief Hale?” And then the door smacked shut behind her.
I returned to my room where I decided to pace.
I’d never really been a pacer though. Instead, I sank down on the bed. Truthfully, I felt like running away from here whether my house was ready to be inhabited again or not. I scrubbed a hand over my face, realizing I was still wearing the thimble. I removed it with more aggression than was necessary, and tossed it on to the bedside table. It landed perfectly right side up with a soft click, the inane donkey grinning crookedly at me.
My shoulders fell and that instinct to run away intensified. But I’d never run from anything. Ever.
There was a soft knock at my door. I startled, standing quickly and rushing to it, my heart flying in my chest. I pulled it open and Haven stood there, looking shy and a bit uncertain. A breath gusted from my lips.
She’d come to me.
“I wasn’t sure . . . well, I wasn’t sure whether I should knock on your door. That is whether . . . you might want company tonight.” Her cheeks flushed and my heart soared higher to know exactly what sort of company she meant. “Well, so”—she raised the picture I hadn’t noticed she was holding in her hand—“I asked Grandma for her advice.”
I opened the door wider so she could enter, and then closed it behind her. “So that’s what my life has come to. The picture of a dead old lady now stands between me and a night of . . . benefits.” Happiness expanded. She was here.
Haven laughed, considering the photo. “It’s not such a terrible fate. She looks stuffy, but she’s actually very forward-thinking.”
“Grandma likes sex?”
“Very much so.”
My lip quirked as she stepped closer. “This conversation is killing the