Page 45 of Call Me Anytime
“I’m feeling lots better, thanks.”
“You know, hon, I was thinking a lot about you last night, and I want you to know that I think you’re doing a good thing. Helping the police like you are,” she says, her voice only loud enough for my ears. “I know sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but all that good karma comes back.”
“Thanks, Lovie.”
My mom jumps up from the couch, her excitement palpable as a scene fromNCISplays on the screen behind her. I try my best to figure out what episode it is quickly, so I’m prepared to say what she needs me to.
I think it’s the end of an episode in season 4, called “Friends & Lovers.” Strangely enough, if I’m remembering correctly, it’s the one where they suspect a petty officer died from an accidental drug overdose,but, really, he was murdered. Which, to be honest, is some kind of flipping irony. From what I’ve overheard from Dom and Shane, this episode might as well be a fictional reflection of my actual life right now.
“Ziva!” my mom exclaims, a big smile on her face, which I can’t not return.
“Hey, Sherry.”
“You off to meet up with Tony and Gibbs?”
“Yep. Headed to meet up with them now,” I answer, and I feel like I’m only half lying. In her mind, Dom and ShaneareTony and Gibbs.
“Listen, Ziva. Things could get hairy, okay?” Her eyes turn serious. “Just watch your six.”
“You got it, Sherry,” I agree, seeing as it’s not exactly bad advice these days.
Lovie hands me a packed lunch in the form of a grocery bag full of food, and I smile gratefully before grabbing my purse and keys and heading down the stairs and out the front door. The Camaro still sits at the curb, and I decide to take a little detour toward it so I can say thank you. It’s the least I can do. Whoever it is, they gave up their night for us.
I get to the slightly black-tinted passenger side window and raise my hand to knock, but when the window rolls down and Dom’s face comes into view, I freeze.
“Morning,” he says, but my throat is so tight with confusion I can barely squeak out a hello.
But seriously, what is he doing here? I thought he was sending a car?
Dom stretches a little and climbs out of the car, leaning over top of it with a smile. His hair is tousled and messy, and the white T-shirt he’s wearing is rumpled from what I now realize must have been a full night spent in his car. Something inside my belly flips and twists and turns—something warm and confusing and impossible to ignore.
He looks good.Really good.And I promptly ignore it.
“I thought you were sending a patrol car?” I ask, shaking my head. “Have you been here all night?”
“Guilty,” he says, holding up both hands with a grin. “We just didn’t have any patrols free, so I decided to do it myself.”
My heart lurches beneath my ribs, and for a split second, I forget how to breathe. “You ... you stayed hereall night?”
“It’s no big deal, Hannah. I didn’t mind.”
Didn’t mind? Sleeping in my driveway all freaking night long?
“Wow.” My cheeks heat, my chest tightens, and a whirlwind of emotions hit me all at once. Embarrassment, gratitude, disbelief.No one’s ever done anything like this for me.“Thanks. I ... can’t believe you did that. But I ... I really do appreciate it.”
Dominic’s head tips slightly to the side, and his lips curl into a deeper smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“Honestly? Better than I have in ages.”
“Good. It was worth it then.” He stretches his arms again, and I try really hard not to notice just how freaking muscular he is as his biceps and triceps and shoulders flex with the movement. “See you in a bit, I guess?”
“Uh-huh.” I awkwardly jingle my keys in the air. “See you in a bit.”
He taps the top of the car a couple of times before climbing back inside, and I turn to make my way back up the driveway. I don’t know why all of a sudden I feel self-conscious around him, but I force myself to shake it off as I head to my Civic. Obviously, I don’t have time to let myself get a weird little crush on the detective who is screening my phone sex calls.
Ha.The insanity of that makes me snort out loud as I open my driver’s side door with a creak. I climb in, tossing my purse and the lunch Lovie packed for me on the passenger seat. Key already in hand, I slip it into the ignition and crank the car to start, but other than a couple of groans, it doesn’t do anything at all.
What the . . . ?
