Page 110 of Moonshine Kiss
“I don’t know how to balance all of this,” she admitted. “I want to do right by everybody but I can’t make heads or tails of being bad at my job or bad at our relationship.”
“Let’s figure it out. Together.” I leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose.
“I don’t like failing, Bowie,” she said, her tone serious.
“Then I won’t let you, Deputy Do Right.”
She looked sad and tired. The energy and excitement from our make-out session had dissipated. “How about we go hang some tinsel on that tree?” I suggested. “Christmas decorating always makes you feel better.”
“We’re supposed to be keeping things quiet,” she reminded me.
“I promise not to kiss you or do anything else that could be considered boyfriendly,” I promised.
“Do you think the Kendalls will tell Connelly about us?”
“All they saw was us walking out of an alley laughing. They don’t strike me as the gossipy type.” Maybe it was because they’d endured so many years of whispers, of pitying looks. But the Kendalls looked like they could keep a secret.
52
Bowie
We all showed up in the high school gym the next morning to watch Jonah struggle through a boot camp hangover. Even Gibs was here, peopling on purpose. Of course, Gibson was never hungover. He never drank. Our father drank, therefore Gibs never did.
I admired his fortitude but sometimes wondered if not doing something because someone else did it was as bad as doing something just because someone else did it.
“Okay, let’s get started with some high knee jogs,” Jonah rasped, gesturing at us to split into lines. He looked a little green around the gills.
Truth be told, most of us did. There were thirty of us, a range of ages, sizes, and shapes. I’d be willing to bet that a good fifty percent was hungover.
As if the universe bade it, Cassidy lined up next to me and we jogged down the gym floor to half court together. She’d insisted on coming alone and being aloof.
“How are you feelin’ today?” I asked, trying not to huff and puff. Maybe I needed to give Jonah a little bit more of my time.
She didn’t look at me. “Fine.”
She’d given me a cursory peck on the cheek last night and gone right on inside, shutting the door behind her.
I could take a hint.
This relationship thing was new. We were both bound to make some missteps. It wasn’t fair of me to ask her to share confidential information. Somewhere around the middle of the night while I was staring up at my ceiling, I realized that what bothered me most was that she hadn’twantedto share anything. The DNA results, the photos of Callie’s wounds. It hadn’t even occurred to her that I’d want to know. There’d been no internal moral battle between her loyalty to her job and her loyalty to me.
Her job, the law, had always been there for her. And I hadn’t.
Of course, it hadn’t occurred to Cassidy towantto share. She was a rule-follower, a by-the-booker, and that was part of what I loved about her. That steadiness. That constancy. I could depend on her to be solid. Unlike my mother, who changed moods quicker than a spring breeze.
I’d debated for a good hour before falling asleep whether or not I should call Jayme and let her know about the pictures. I finally decided to leave it be for now. If our attorney started asking Connelly questions about those pictures, he’d know exactly where the information came from. I needed to trust the law. For now.
“Cass,” I said when we hit half court.What was Jonah trying to do? Kill us with the warm-up?“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have expected you to break your code. That wasn’t fair.”
She tripped and recovered, catching up with me.
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
“How about, ‘You sure look handsome this morning, Bowie,’” I suggested.
She shot me a look that ended with a small smile. “I’m not really upset with you,” she said.
We made it back to our starting point, and I stepped across the line, not ready to be done with the conversation.
