Page 29 of The Truth You Told

“Or crazy sister, I’m sure,” Shay said, finishing her coffee. “You work at the hospital?”

“Sometimes,” the man answered vaguely, and Shay shot a questioning glance at Beau.

But he didn’t offer any more information. Instead, he jangled his keys. “Hey, since you’re mostly awake, you want to ride in with us to visit Dad?”

Shay thought about what else she could do with the morning—namely, go back to sleep. But one look at Beau’s hopeful expression had her agreeing quickly.

“Yeah,” she said, hopping off the counter and heading to her bedroom to slip a bra on under her shirt.

“We’re late,” Beau called.

“Thirty seconds,” Shay promised, shoving her feet into a cheap pair of flip-flops. The weather might bend toward cold soon, but it wasn’t there yet. “Ta-da.”

Beau was scribbling a note for Max, who would probably still be asleep by the time Shay got back.

“How are you going to get home?” Beau’s friend asked, that same wrinkle between his brow that appeared whenever he was confused. It was weird that she knew something like that about him already.

“Taxi?” Shay said with a shrug. She didn’t bother to think through logistics that often. Things tended to work out for her.

“I’ll give you some cash,” Beau said quietly as they all skipped down the steps to Beau’s car.

She flushed a little at the idea that Beau’s friend-slash-coworker had probably heard that. Shay had always prided herself on being good with money. But twelve-year-olds grew at a ridiculously fast rate, ate an absurd amount of food, and always seemed desperate for the coolest thing all their friends had. She could swing unexpected taxi fare, but Beau probably had a slightly cushier rainy-day fund than she did.

Shay took the passenger seat without bothering to check with either one of them, and propped her feet on the dash. The window was already rolled down.

They listened to music on the way in, and didn’t talk at all. Shay wondered if that was their normal MO or if she was throwing off their dynamic.

She flicked her eyes up to the rearview mirror and found the man already watching her. Goose bumps bloomed over her skin, the fine hairs on her arms and neck rising as they went.

Shaking off the feeling, she slid her sunglasses into place and dozed for the remaining ten minutes.

Beau headed toward the psychiatric ward when they arrived, after some kind of complicated bro-hug thing and a wish of good luck to his friend. He ruffled Shay’s hair as he passed, and slipped her a twenty for the taxi. She pocketed it. “I’ll tell him you said hi.”

“Thanks,” Beau said, even though he’d probably visited Billy before leaving the day before, and honestly Billy was in no shape to understand even the simplest greeting.

Shay ended up riding in a painfully slow elevator with Beau’s friend.

“You’ve been in the area long?” she asked. She wasn’t the type who needed to fill silence, but she was actually interested. There was something fun about this guy, and the fact that he’d been able to easily banter with her even after she’d come after him with a baseball bat. Shay had always liked unruffle-able people. It was one of Callum’s best qualities.

“About a year,” he said.

“Where’d you come from?”

He slid her an assessing look. “Dallas.”

“Not far,” she said, leaning back against the elevator rails. The doors opened on the floor before Billy’s for no reason. She’d gotten used to that at the hospital, though. “Miss it?”

“Yes and no,” he said, turning toward her slightly. He didn’t seem bothered by the questions, just truly undecided on an answer. “It’s not ... much different. The area.”

“Texas is Texas is Texas,” she murmured, though she wouldn’t know. She’d only ever lived in Houston.

Still, he laughed. “True, true. And, well, I like the work here better. So.”

“What did you do back there?”

“Still social worker,” he said, with a little self-deprecating grin, seeming to acknowledge the fact that it couldn’t bethatdifferent. Usually men that handsome didn’t do self-deprecating well. “But it was with kids. I wasn’t good at it.”

“Really?” Shay asked, feeling like that confirmed the very uninterested vibes she was picking up. Had he wanted to hit on her, he probably wouldn’t have admitted to being bad with children.

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