I’m opening my mouth to tell her that when the church doors swing open and two nuns walk in, stopping short when they see us. Behind them, I see the rain has stopped and sidewalks are once again full with the summer crowd. How long have we been in here?
“Sisters,” I say, reaching for Taylor’s hand, gratified when she takes it in a way that suggests she was already reaching out. “We were just waiting out the rain.”
One of them raises a white eyebrow. “It stopped some time ago.”
“Did it?” Taylor has decided to feign innocence, a hand pressed to the middle of her chest. Over-the-top perplexed. “We couldn’t hear through all that thick wood.”
“Oh boy,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face.
I turn to find her turning crimson. “I-I mean…what I meant was the door is—”
“You’re digging yourself deeper,” I drawl, nodding at the nuns and pulling Taylor through the double doors. When we hit the sidewalk, I scan the street for threats. Windows, parked cars, people walking by. Nothing out of the ordinary. She’s safe. So I finally let out the rush of amusement I’ve been holding in, laughing for the second time in as many minutes. “You just made a dick joke to a couple of nuns.”
“I didn’t mean to.” She winces, obviously replaying the encounter. “Oh God.”
“That’s who they’re talking to right now. God.” I sigh, patting her on the back. “Asking him to guide you off the dark path of sin.”
Laughing, she shoves at my shoulder. “Stop.”
This won’t be a story we tell the grandkids.
This one is just for us.
The thought is complete before I know what’s happening and my pulse goes haywire. I was seconds from being honest with her back in the church, before we were interrupted. Now that we’re in the daylight, it’s definitely more daunting because I don’t have a plan. Shouldn’t I figure out how a relationship between us would work before I start spilling my feelings like some kind of impulsive idiot? I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship in my twenties. God knows that. But I can’t for the life of me imagine a world where I don’t want to spend every second of my free time with this woman. I can’t imagine having an argument with her and walking away without solving it. I wouldn’t. It would torture me.
I’m…different now. I’d be different for her. I have no choice when I feel like this.
As we turn the corner onto the avenue, walking in the direction of her car, Taylor smiles up at me into the sunshine and I forget how to breathe. Fuck it. I’ll come up with a plan later. “Listen, I was thinking…”
Not the most romantic opening, but okay. I’ve set the bar pretty low thus far in the romance department. It’s only uphill from here, right?
“About what?”
My phone rings. Dammit. I fish it out of my pocket with the intention of silencing it, but Barnstable police are calling me. “This could be news on Evergreen Corp.”
She stops on a dime, urging the phone higher. “Answer it.”
“Yeah.” I still want to throw the device into the sewer, but I grudgingly hit talk. “Sumner.”
“Sumner.” A low voice reaches me, barely audible. “It’s Wright.”
Wright, I mouth at Taylor. “Why are you whispering?” I ask the detective.
“I don’t have long. Listen, Evergreen Corp. You’re not going to believe this. It’s registered to the mayor. Rhonda Robinson.” There’s a shuffle in the background and Wright says something about picking up a pizza on the way home for dinner, as if he’s talking to his wife, instead of me. A beat passes and then he’s whispering again. “The chief of police is a close friend of the mayor. I assumed we were going to bring Robinson in for questioning, but the brass is behind closed doors now. I’ve just got a feeling…”
“That they’re going to bury it.”
“Yeah.” A door closes on the other side of the call. “You didn’t hear this from me.”
“Hear what?” Wright’s relieved breath filters down the line. “Thanks for letting me know.”
I end the call and guide Taylor down the road at a brisk pace, keeping my body between her and the road. My sixth sense is buzzing. I’m on high alert. One of the lessons I learned growing up the son of a detective and eventually becoming one myself is this. When there are politics and corruption involved in a case, there are inevitable casualties. And I’ll be damned if my Taylor is going to be one of them.