Page 37 of Romeo

“I do.Thank you.”I pause, kit in hand.

“Is there something else?”

“Is it hard to do?”For some reason, the idea of painting nails stresses me out.Ask me to take on an entire squad of the enemy, and I’ll find a way to do it.But paint someone’s nails?Apparently, that’s where I start getting intimidated.

“It’s not hard,” she says with a laugh.“You’ll be just fine, Riles.”

“Maybe.”

Lani takes a seat at her desk.“You like her, don’t you?”

“I misjudged her,” I reply.“And I feel bad about it.”

“So this is you making up to her?Have you considered apologizing?”

“This is an apology.”

Lani shakes her head.“You, dear brother, are in way over your head.”

“I’m just trying to make her life not so miserable.Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.It’s actually really sweet.Just do me a favor, and don’t forget that a verbal apology works too.And, when paired with a kind gesture such as painting her nails since she can’t, it can be quite powerful.”

“How’s Gibson these days?”I change the subject, knowing that if I bring up the sheriff Lani’s been in love with since she was a teenager, she’ll let this go.

“As far as I know, he’s doing just fine.”

“Hmm.”I grin at her.“Thanks for this, sis.”

“You’re welcome,Romeo.” She uses my code name, strategically placed to annoy me and take another shot at the gesture I’m planning for Jules.

I don’t respond as I leave her office and step back out onto the sunny street.Lani’s voice is an echo in my head though.“You like her, don’t you?”Am I making a mistake?Will this be seen as something more than I mean it to?

Jules’s moodhas been in the dumps ever since I got back three hours ago.She was sitting on the couch, staring out the window, when I walked in with Romeo at my side.Then, before I’d even had the chance to say so much as hello, she slowly, and painfully from the look of it, got off of the couch and headed into her room.

Which is exactly where she is right now.

I finish cutting the ends off asparagus stems then take a swig of my sweet tea.After seasoning some chopped-up potatoes, I slide them into my oven and turn my attention to seasoning two thick cuts of filet.

Unlike my older brother, Elliot, I actually love to cook.While I excel at the grill, I also bake all of my own bread and stock my house with snacks I’ve prepped myself.It’s my way of decompressing when the world gets too loud.

Especially when I can listen to an audiobook as I knead dough or prep meals for the week.When life gets noisy, I just step into the kitchen and lose myself in measuring, mixing, and preparing.Ultimate control for me when I’m in a tailspin, which happens more often than I care to admit.

As soon as I’ve got the steaks ready to go, I take them and the asparagus out onto the back porch.Romeo is sleeping soundly on a plush bed, clearly enjoying the warm early evening air.

“Don’t strain yourself, boy,” I tell him.

He opens his eyes to look at me and wags his tail twice but doesn’t get up.

I laugh and open the lid then place the steaks on the grill.They sizzle, and a mouthwatering aroma fills the air.After adding the asparagus stalks to the top rack in the grill, I close the lid then take the plates back inside.

As soon as they’re rinsed, I retrieve my grill tongs, sweet tea, and my current read, then step back out onto the porch.I’ve no sooner taken a seat on the rocking chair closest to the grill than the back slider opens again, and Jules steps out.

Her blonde hair is in a messy bun, and there are unmistakable red rims around her eyes.

She’s been crying.

My stomach twists into knots, but I don’t mention how upset she still looks.I get the feeling that Jules Landers is not a woman who wants to even think she appears weak.And the last thing I want is to chase her back into her room when she’s finally coming out.

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