Page 55 of Crumbling Truth
A second later, Theo returned to my side, wrapped his arm around my waist, and said, “Now, show me which teddy bear to win for you, milady.”
Not only did he win the bear, he also funded the ring toss efforts of at least four or five little kids who showed up to the counter beside him. By the time we headed back toward the truck, his wallet was significantly emptier but my heart was full enough to burst.
At the end of the night, we’d sold out of almost everything. As soon as the truck was officially closed up and off-duty, I presented Theo with a couple brownies I’d hidden away for us to share. His caramel eyes melted when he saw them.
“I realize you made your dessert intentions fairly clear, but I also know I’m usually starving by the end of these things, so I figured we deserved a treat.”
“Esther,” he said in a reverent tone, “you are an absolute goddess.”
I laughed, handed him a brownie on a napkin, and lifted my own in toast. “To the best sidekick I’ve ever had.”
“To both of us,” he corrected, then wolfed down the brownie in three big bites.
Once we finished eating and brushed the crumbs from our laps, I drove us home through the dark night, guided by the lamp posts along Main Street and houses adorned with their own colorful light displays. I wasn’t sure if Theo had just been teasing, but when he followed me inside instead of returning to his parents’ house, he proved that he’d been completely serious about his intentions.
There was more than one benefit to having a sidekick.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Theo
Wesleptinlatethe next morning, late enough that when I snuck out of Esther’s bed to go home and give the cat her breakfast, Toni sliced open my forearm. I swore—colorfully and at great length—as I cleaned the wound, then glared at the feline before returning to the guest house and the soft, sleepy woman under the covers. She was just beginning to stir, but she noticed the scratch immediately.
“You know, we can stay at the house instead,” she told me as she inspected it. “She’s probably lonely.”
I laughed, but Esther’s willingness to venture out of her little bubble of safety here warmed me through and through. “If you’re sure, we can head over there later. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but I wondered if you were open to the idea.”
“As I recall, your bed was quite lovely,” she teased.
Propping myself on one elbow to gaze down at her, I gave a solemn nod. “And your body spread across it was even lovelier.”
We lingered in Esther’s bed until lunchtime, showered together, then returned to the house to try to soothe the gingerbeast’s loneliness. Esther cooed over her as soon as we walked in, which resulted in losing half an hour to the queen’s demands for attention. When the cat finally decided she was done with affection, she retreated to her favorite sunny windowsill.
Finally free, I tugged a giggling Esther upstairs and reminded her of my plans for the day. As I planted a line of kisses across her belly, I said, “Today. You. Are. Mine.”
Very wisely, she did not disagree.
By the time the sun started to set outside the window, we were sprawled across the bed in a boneless tangle. The color scheme in here was a perfect backdrop for the sated woman beside me, calm and soothing, changing her eyes from silver to topaz to icy green in the span of a moment. My fingers swirled idly along her spine, drawing goosebumps and an occasional ticklish shiver, but she just nestled closer until her head rested right over my heart.
Throughout my entire life, I’d always been a light sleeper. I remembered creeping into my parents’ room after hearing the first low rumble of thunder or an odd whistle of the wind or the bang of a car door closing. As an adult, I still woke often during the night, though fortunately I’d long since learned how to get myself back to sleep.
With Esther? I slept like a log.
She often shifted away from me during the night, which I attributed to both valuing her own space and overheating when we were wrapped around one another, but even her movements didn’t wake me. As a result, when I blinked myself awake in the morning light the next day, I felt like I’d just gone under anesthesia or experienced a time jump. Esther was still fast asleep at my side, her hands tucked under her chin.
For several long minutes, I debated whether I should stay there until she woke up or go make us some breakfast. There was nothing more enticing than her sleepy smile when she reachedfor me, sometimes just to snuggle until her brain kicked into gear, sometimes to guide me into her for a slow, lazy round of lovemaking. Still, the last few days had taken their toll on her, especially being “on” in public the other night, and I wanted to be sure she got enough rest to fully recover.
With the decision made, I eased out of bed, tugged the curtains more tightly closed, and crept downstairs.
I fed Toni, who graced me with a swish of her tail instead of a flash of claws, and had just started scouring the cupboards when an insistent buzz came from somewhere behind me. For a second, I was convinced there was a bee in the kitchen, until I remembered Esther had tossed her phone onto the table when Toni demanded love the day before.
I intended to just hit the decline button and tell her about it when she woke up, but when I sawprivate numberflashing across the screen, I remembered her comment about the prank calls. Instead of declining, I answered it, hoping that the sound of my deep voice instead of Esther’s would scare the caller straight.
“Hello?” When no one spoke, I snapped, “Who the hell is this and why are you calling?”
The sound of heavy breathing came through the line and a surge of fury rose in me. There was no response to my questions, and after another few seconds, the caller hung up.
I swore under my breath, pulled out my own phone, and texted Oliver. One of our high school friends, Rose Hanson, was a detective on Spruce Hill’s tiny police squad. I remembered Ollie mentioning her years ago, telling me she’d become the department’s tech expert.
