Page 165 of Things We Left Behind
“Nice. But shouldn’t you have a Valentine’s date?”
“Me? Why? What did you hear?” Did he know about Lucian? Had Lucian told him? Of course not. Lucian never told anyone anything.
Nash’s gaze sharpened. “Now that’s an odd reaction to me askin’ you how your dating life is going. With all those dates you’ve been goin’ on, I figured you’d have a hot date tonight.”
Oh,thosedates. Not the secret kind that involved my downtown being invaded by Lucian Rollins. Great. Now I was thinking about Lucian’s penis. That wasn’t good. Had I waited too long to respond to Nash? He was looking at me strangely.Was I being weird? Was Lucian’s penis making me make things weird? Did every woman who ever slept with Lucian act like this?
I imagined a legion of penis-hypnotized women wandering like a herd of zombies behind Lucian as he went about his day.
“Ah. Yes. Well. I’ve had this event on the calendar for a while, and I didn’t want to miss it, so no date for me,” I said, sounding like I was being strangled.
Nash peered down at me. “You okay? You’re turning red.”
“It’s, uh, hot in here.” To illustrate my point, I whipped off my cardigan, accidentally dropping it on Ezra Abbott, the cherub-cheeked four-year-old ladies’ man.
“Look! I’m a thuperhero,” Ezra announced, lisping adorably through the space where his front teeth once had been. He zoomed off with my sweater flying behind him like a cape.
“I’ll get that back later,” I said, watching him disappear into the cushion fort. “Let’s get back to talking about you. What are your plans for tonight?”
“That’s one of the reasons why I’m here,” Nash said, looking sheepish. “I got Lina a present, and I wanted to run it by someone first. It’s our first Valentine’s Day, and you know Angelina.”
“She’s not a candy and flowers kind of girl,” I said.
He grinned. “Exactly.”
If it was possible for a man to have cartoon hearts in his eyes, Nash Morgan looked as if he’d been struck by Cupid himself.
“I’m honored that you came to me,” I said.
Nash got that funny, sheepish look on his handsome face again.
I planted my hands on my hips. “What?”
He winced. “I tried to get Stef, but Knox got to him first. No offense.”
“None taken. Stef would have been my first choice too. So what did you get Lina?”
Nash looked over his shoulder. I did the same. In Knockemout, the gossip ran fast and loose. If the wrong set ofears overheard us, Lina would know what her gift was before Nash left the library.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and opened his photos. “These.”
I took the phone from him and enlarged the picture of a pair of very sexy cowboy boots. “Shoes. Nicely done, Chief. You’re definitely getting laid tonight.”
Nash blew out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“Now, what else can I do for you?”
“I’d like to book one of the conference rooms for some trainings over the next couple of weeks.”
“Sure. What kind of trainings?” I asked.
“Autism awareness for first responders. We’re starting off with my cops, then moving to fire, medical, and social workers. Figured the library would be a friendlier setting than the station.”
Nash had been working his well-defined butt off on this initiative since the fall. The whole town had turned out for his BBQ fundraiser that earned enough to equip every first responder vehicle with noise-canceling headphones and weighted wearables. “Good for you, Chief. I’m proud of you.”
Nash looked good and embarrassed. “Thanks, Sloaney.”
“Sloane, sorry to interrupt. But I found something in the book drop,” Jamal said, joining us.
