“He’s in a dark place. When a man is in the dark like that, he can’t trust himself, let alone someone he barely knows. You put your trust in the wrong place, and those betrayals are nearly impossible to come back from.”
“No offense, Lucy, but this sounds kind of like you’re applying your shitty past to your friend’s happy present,” Jeremiah said.
“Listen to the hot barber. He’s practically a psychologist,” Stef said.
“You know nothing about my past,” Lucian said darkly.
“Maybe we should change topics before this turns into Henry Veedle’s bachelor party,” I suggested.
“She really stuck?” Knox asked me.
I nodded. “Yeah. And as soon as I can get her warmed up to the idea of forever, I’ll need that jeweler’s phone number.”
“Christ,” Lucian muttered under his breath, signaling for another bourbon.
“What’s standing in the way of warming her up?” Jeremiah asked.
“Besides barely knowing each other and coming from an emotionally damaged place?” Lucian said to his fresh bourbon.
“I fucked up less than forty-eight hours ago. I need to figure out some kind of grand gesture to make her believe in me. In us.”
She’s yours. Make it official. Lina’s words echoed in my head.
“Are you serious enough?” Stef prompted.
“Serious enough to make Bannerjee show me how to use Pinterest so I could save a few dozen ring designs.”
Lucian dragged his hands over his face in horror but said nothing.
“Sounds serious to me,” Lou decided.
“So what qualifies as a grand gesture?” Jeremiah asked.
“Flowers?” Knox guessed.
Stef snorted. “That’s the opposite of grand. That’s a petite gesture. You busting in to Duncan Hugo’s warehouse to save the damsels in distress was a grand gesture.”
My brother nodded smugly. “That was pretty epic.”
“Me surprising Mandy with a three-week cruise was a grand gesture,” Lou said.
“That’s a good one. Take her on vacation,” Nolan suggested. “My wife loved it when we got away just the two of us.”
“Didn’t your wife divorce you?” Lucian pointed out.
“A, fuck you. And B, maybe she wouldn’t have if I’d taken her on more vacations instead of working all the fucking time.”
“That’s good, but I need something I can do now. Even before we settle this thing with Hugo.”
“Get the oil changed in her car?” Jeremiah suggested.
“Too small,” I said.
“Fly her family in to surprise her?”
“Overstepping.”
“Buy her one of those purses that cost a fucking fortune,” Knox suggested.
“Not everyone has lottery winnings to throw around.”
“You would have if you kept what I gave you instead of putting my fucking name on a goddamn police station, dumbass.”
“Point taken.”
“Why not just get a tattoo of her name on your ass?” Lucian said dryly.
Knox and I shared a look.
“Well, it is a family tradition,” my brother mused.
And that was how I ended up pantsless and ass up in the chair at Spark Plug Tattoo. Knox was in the chair next to me shirtless, getting his wedding date tattooed over his heart.
“You do realize I was being sarcastic,” Lucian muttered from the corner where he lurked like a pissed-off vampire.
“That was not lost on me. But it was still a damn good idea.”
“You’re going to feel like a fool when she leaves and you’ve got a permanent reminder on your ass.”
But even Lucian’s pessimism couldn’t dampen my spirits.
Nolan was paging through a design album with Lou at the counter while Stef and Jeremiah cracked open another round of beers for everyone.
“I’ve been waiting years to get my hands on this ass,” the tattoo artist said gleefully. Her name was Sally. She was inked from neck to knees and had been a nationally ranked equestrian champion in her early twenties.
“Oh, honey, you and every other woman in this town,” Stef said.
“Be gentle with me. It’s my first time,” I said.
She had just started when I heard the click of a camera shutter and turned to glare at Nolan. “What? I’m just documenting the evening.”
“Maybe you should trade the trash ’stache for a tat,” Knox suggested.
“You think?” Nolan asked. I could practically hear him stroking his mustache like it was a pet cat.
“I think you could pull off something cool. Like maybe a wolf. Or what about a hatchet?” Lou suggested.
“Give y’all a group rate if you do decide you want one,” Sally said over the buzz and stabbing needle of the tattoo gun.
I was listening to the hum of dueling tattoo guns when Stef let out a yelp.
“Shit. Oh shit,” he said.
“What?” I demanded.
“Stop clenching,” Sally instructed.
I did my best to relax my ass cheeks.
“You know that article that wasn’t supposed to go out until Monday?” Stef said, still peering at his phone.
“What article?” Jeremiah and Lou asked in unison.
Dread creeped into my gut. “What about it?”
Stef turned his phone so I could see the screen. There I stood next to the American flag in my office, looking pissed off as hell under the headline Small Town Hero’s Comeback.
“It went live early,” he said. “Apparently they lost the feature that was supposed to run today and posted this in its place two hours ago.”
“Gimme my phone. Now,” I snapped. “Sal, we’re gonna have to finish this later.”
“Roger that, Chief. I won’t complain about getting to see this masterpiece again.”
I waited impatiently while she slapped a piece of gauze over the work in progress.
“Holy shit. It already has fifty thousand likes,” Stef commented. He looked at me. “You’re America’s goddamn sweetheart.”
My phone was already ringing by the time Lucian dug it out of my pants pocket.
It was Special Agent Idler.
“This is not what I meant by lying low,” she snapped when I answered.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Special Agent,” I said pointedly as I vaulted out of the chair and grabbed my pants.
Nolan made the universal “I’m not here” slashing motion over his throat.
“Police chief recovers from gunshot wounds and memory loss to rid his force of a dirty cop,” she read out loud. “I distinctly remember telling you I wanted to know if and when you regained your memory. And where in the hell is your protection detail?”
I shoved my leg into my jeans. “You know what I don’t recall? I don’t recall you telling me you were gonna cut a deal with the criminal who tried to put me, my niece, and my sister-in-law in the ground.”
“Who said anything about a deal?” she hedged.
“The FBI has more leaks than the goddamn Titanic. You’re willing to look the other way on attempted murder and kidnapping charges to land the bigger fish. Well, news flash, Special Agent. I’m not putting my family in danger because you can’t build a case the old-fashioned way.”