Page 48 of Play Our Song

“A life of crime is not for me,” Sophie said quickly. “I think we’ve firmly established that.”

“Good,” Tilly said. “But I can’t promise you that my investigations won’t lead me to your garage. I have to do my job and if that means—”

“I don’t need to hear about it,” Sophie interrupted. “Your job is your job and you need to do it to the best of your ability. It has nothing to do with me, and if you show up at the garage, then I accept that you’re just doing what you have to do.”

“You’ll trust me?” Tilly asked.

Sophie nodded. “I know you’re not out to get them. And I know they’re not doing anything wrong. If you need to investigate, then go ahead.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay then.” Sophie coughed. “Um, should we be signing some kind of contract here?”

Tilly laughed, and the sound hit Sophie right in the heart. “I know this isn’t the most romantic thing that’s ever happened.”

“No,” Sophie said. “No, it’s… It seems right. It feels good. We’re both on the same page, I like that. I like…” She grinned. “I like you. Whatever it takes to get to see more of you.”

Slowly, Tilly reached her hand across the table, and equally slowly, Sophie took it. Until their fingers were entangledtogether, until Sophie could feel the touch all over her skin, could feel the shivers as Tilly’s fingers moved.

“I’m glad,” Tilly said softly. “I’m glad because I actually don’t want to be without you. I look forward to seeing you. I’ve never looked forward to seeing anyone before.”

“I hope you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me,” Sophie said, blushing as she realized what she implied.

But Tilly’s eyebrow raised just a millimeter. “Is that an invitation, Ms. Farmer?”

“Would you like it to be one?” Sophie responded. Her mouth was dry, and she didn’t think it was just the hangover.

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more.” Tilly’s voice had deepened, grown huskier.

Sophie was contemplating getting up, wondering if there was anything illegal about making out in an interview room, thinking that maybe, just maybe she might be about to throw caution to the wind, when the sound of her father’s voice rang through the station.

“I demand to see my daughter.”

She snatched her hand away from Tilly’s, straightening up, starting to feel sick again.

“It’s fine,” Tilly said. “You’re free to go.”

Sophie nodded. “I’d better, um, better get out there then, before he does something he regrets.”

Tilly stood up and gestured toward the door. “I’d probably better stay out of sight.”

Sophie’s hand was on the door handle now. She glanced back at Tilly. “Soon?”

“Soon,” Tilly smiled.

And Sophie’s heart lightened as she stepped out of the interview room.

Her father was standing in front of the wooden counter, his hair a mess, his face far too red. Max was trying to placate him.

“Dad, I’m fine,” Sophie said, stepping around the counter. “And I’m free to go. Let’s get out of here.”

He glared at Max as Sophie took his arm. “Police harassment,” he said.

Sophie sighed. “Think about your heart, your blood pressure,” she said, pulling him toward the door.

“Maybe you should have thought about that,” he grumbled, but he let himself be ushered out.

Sophie turned at the last minute and saw Tilly’s pale face watching as she left. And her life felt suddenly so much brighter.

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