Page 17 of Sergeant O'
“I wish we would have thought to be sneakier yesterday. They got a photo of us leaving the hospital last night—hence the need for Granny’s car.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I grabbed my sister’s hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Paulina said the bakery was a mad house when she opened this morning. All kinds of reporters asking when I was coming in; thankfully they were buying something first. I had to have Marie come in to help her.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. But I’m glad you’re at least making some money from it. If you and Conor need to hide out at my place…”
“We’re staying at Adam’s. Since he’s renting and gets his mail delivered to a PO Box, we’re off-grid for now.”
He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against his side. It was adorable how she melted into his embrace.
“My brother, Alan, said we could go hang at his beach cottage on Cape Cod, but since I have the least seniority on the force, and we don’t know how long Brian will be out, I have to stay here.”
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” she assured him with an adoring smile.
He grinned back at her like a fool.
Barf.
I inched toward the parking lot. “Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks,” they said in unison and headed inside.
I really was happy for my little sister. She’d been through hell this year and deserved a happily ever after. Adam seemed like just the man to give her one. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tiny bit envious.
I was worried that maybe I’d missed my chance at my own fairytale. My Prince Charming had turned out to be a big ol’ toad.
Not even a frog.
A warty toad.
And there weren’t exactly a plethora of prospects in Haven Springs. When I returned home after college, all the single men in town either had a girlfriend, were man whores, or workaholics.
I’d been there, done that, and had no interest in a repeat performance.
~~~~
I hung my keyring on the hook by the door leading to the garage, then kicked off my Crocs and left them on the mat. After starting the washer and adding a few detergent pods, I stripped out of my scrubs and tossed them in the washing drum as it filled with water. Next, I reached inside my backpack and fished out the clothes from my locker and threw them in next to my scrubs before padding barefoot inside in nothing but my bra and underwear.
I smiled when I noticed my clean kitchen. I didn’t care about having a fancy car or the latest designer label clothes; my idea of luxury was having a clean house. My housekeeper, Michelle, was worth every penny. I set my wallet and purse on the island and almost felt guilty when I pulled a plate from the cupboard, knowing I was about to dirty it. But my growling stomach overrode my desire to keep my kitchen spotless, so I pulled out all the ingredients to make a sandwich: bread, cheese, meat, lettuce, mayo, and salt and pepper, and set them on the counter next to the plate.
I heard my phone buzz with a text and almost ignored it. Anyone who I cared enough to talk to should know I’d just gotten off work and could possibly already be in bed. Then I thought about the shitshow that was going on with Lainey and Brian and decided to look at my screen. Sure enough…
Lainey: Can you open your garage? Please!
Me: Of course! Doing it right now!
Without a second thought, I opened the door to the garage and hit the button for the opener. I watched as the door slowly came up and Adam sat in the driver’s seat of Granny O’Brien’s maroon Cadillac CT4.
At that second, several thoughts flooded my head at once.
Where was Lainey?
Had they been able to get Brian out of the hospital without the media noticing?
And finally, oh, shit, I’m in my bra and underwear.
The last thought came a little too late, as Brian’s head popped up from the backseat and a slow, salacious grin formed on his face when our eyes met.
