pleasure. “She probably gets this all the time, but she’s gonna—”
“Do great things,” Abe finished. “Yeah.”
“At this point, I consider it more a dare than anything else,” Hannah said. “As well as something to cross off my bucket list by the time I’m driving age.”
I don’t even want to think about what this teeny genius would do on a dare. “You’re way too young to have a bucket list.” She looked around their small family and decided the niceties had been handled. “Well, it was good seeing you, but I should probably check to make sure the autopilot hasn’t burned out…”
“I have some time after we land. Have dinner with me,” Tom blurted out of nowhere.
She hesitated. “I don’t want to get in the way of your family plans.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Abe put in. “The conference doesn’t start until tomorrow, and we were just gonna take the Blue Line to our hotel and goof off ’til supper.”
“The hotel has a pool!” Hannah added. “That’s where we’ll do most of the goofing off.”
“Tom can take you to an early dinner and meet up with us later,” Abe added, and seemed way too pleased about all of it.
“You could go to Legal Seafood,” Hannah suggested. When Ava raised her eyebrows, the girl added, “What? You love seafood. I read it on your Facebook page. Also, vampire movies, popcorn, and tailwinds out of the Midwest.”
Well, at least she isn’t telepathic. Probably.
“All right,” she said, and grinned at how happy Tom looked. “But you’re paying.”
“Of course.”
“No, wait. That’s not very twenty-first century.” She stuck a finger in his face. “I’m paying. Don’t try to talk me out of it.”
“Of course.”
“Oh, no you don’t! Wait. You know what? Let’s just split the bill.”
“Whatever you want.”
Good plan. And let’s not pretend this has anything to do with solving a murder. You like him and you want him to like you back. That’s all it is.
Well, that and the fact that you literally have nothing else going on right now. Blake’s out of the picture, Dennis was never in the picture—where the hell has he disappeared to, anyway?—and Doc Baker has wonderful eyes.
True enough. Although that last bit was irrelevant. That said, it would be easier for Tom to guard her bad bod if they were having dinner together. Time to chow down a boatload of chowder!
Well, maybe not chowder.
Thirty-One
“… please remain seated with your seat belts on until the aircraft comes to a complete stop. Complete. Stop. Thank you for flying with Northeastern Southwest and remember: nobody loves you or your money more than we do. And, as always, the last person off the plane has to clean it. So thanks in advance, mystery passenger!”
Tom was already on his feet despite Abe’s eye roll and Hannah’s “Uncle Tom, Ava just said not to do that until we stopped.” He hit his head on the overhead bin, but such things happened so often, he barely noticed.
“I’m sure she was only joking about how the last person off has to clean the plane, son.”
Tom grunted in response, but felt his cheeks warm a little. He would be embarrassed to admit how much he loved it when Abe slipped and called him son. It meant nothing, of course. Abe was a nice man who was nice to the people around him. But he liked that Abe was comfortable enough around him to make those slips.
And it was no surprise to him that Ava was relaxed enough to make jokes during flight announcements; one thing the woman never seemed to lack was confidence. Well, until he almost broke her spirit by implying she might have killed her best friend, took a ten-year vacation, then trashed that same friend’s memorial.
He got their bags sorted, double-checked to make sure Abe had all the details for their lodging
(“This isn’t my first jaunt out of the neighborhood, Tom. I know how hotels work. And airports. And the subway. And e-mail confirmations.”)
shook Abe’s hand, hugged Hannah, enjoined them to take every care, then planted himself like a redwood in the waiting area and waited. (Always nice to find an area appropriately named.)
He heard her before he saw her; she was scolding her first officer—fortunate bum!—as they came up the carpeted ramp.
“—with the cousins already!”
“No, no. You’ve got this all wrong, Ava. He’s not a cousin.”
“Oh.”
“He’s a stepbrother.”
“Dammit!”
“Why are you fighting me on this? When have I steered you wrong?”
“Chicago. Honolulu. Los Angeles. Anchorage. Portland. The other Portland. Dallas. San Fr—”
“You have to trust me.