Page 261 of A Lick and A Promise
“What’s up?” I asked when I got there.
“Brody has been keeping an eye on things. Dad boarded a plane to Cuba about an hour ago.”
“Well…that’s a choice,” I said for lack of anything else to say.
“They don’t extradite.”
“Oh.”
“Am I fucked in the head that I’m relieved all my family is safe?” And since his mother and siblings were involved with a drug cartel, he tacked on, “For now.”
“You’re not fucked in the head,” I replied. “You’re Knox. That’s who you are. You’re a good guy. And that’s how good guys think.”
It took a second before he said, “Yeah. A beautiful, together woman like you wouldn’t sit on a wrapped Christmas present for over a year if I wasn’t that guy.”
He was getting it.
“One thousand and one percent,” I confirmed. Then, so he wouldn’t forget, “Or sleep with his tee all that time too.”
“I fuckin’ love you.”
His voice was gruff.
“I fuckin’ love you too. And not only because you share morning dog bathroom duties. Or that you’re a master of the kiss mix.”
“The kiss mix?
“Dueler, dancer, and plunderer.”
Another second before he burst out laughing.
Excellent.
My job was done.
“See you in a couple hours,” he said, still laughing.
“You will,” I replied.
We hung up.
And I got back to work.
“Knox, I know we’re a thing,” I said.
“Yeah,” he bit off. “We’re a thing.”
“A lasting thing.”
He turned toward the Container Store bags piled in the corner that were the preliminaries to Harlow’s organization project, returned to me and scowled.
Mm-hmm.
Those bags pretty much cemented the word “lasting” in my statement.
It was now Saturday.
Jacob and Alexis were still on their honeymoon.
