Page 54 of Fatal Pattern

Tori’s head snapped toward him. “Excuse me?”

“Excuse me? Excuse you. Your house is a crime scene mess after someone tried to kill you. I’m not leaving you alone.” He kept his eyes on the road. “You can crash at my place.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Good thing I’m not applying for the job. The pay’s terrible and the hours are worse.”

She crossed her arms. “I can just stay with Harlee.”

“Right. Wake up Harlee at this time of night and see how that goes for you. She’s a bear when her sleep gets interrupted. She’ll rip your face off before you finish explaining why you’re standing on her doorstep.”

“Yeah, well, your girlfriend isn’t going to love the idea of another woman sleeping over.”

He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. You’ve crashed there plenty of times. Remember our Lord of the Rings marathon? You made it through exactly half of Fellowship before you were snoring on my sectional.”

“I was not snoring.” Her indignation was exactly what he’d hoped for.

“You sounded like a freight train with a deviated septum.”

“That’s impossible. I have excellent nasal passages.” She shifted in her seat. “I was resting my eyes.”

“For four hours.”

“It was a very long movie,” she said. “And the books were better anyway.”

“The books were better? Tori, we’re talking about Peter Jackson’s masterpiece. The battle sequences alone—”

“Were overly dramatized. Tolkien’s prose captured the mythology in ways the movies never could. The films turned Faramir into a weak-willed—”

“They’re classics, Crew. Cultural touchstones.”

“They’re three hours of walking and talking about jewelry.”

His phone buzzed against the center console. Kiara’s name lit up the screen.

He didn’t want to answer. For the first time all day his shoulders had dropped below his ears. This easy banter with Tori felt like breathing after holding his breath all day.

Why was everything so easy with her? So natural.

He glanced over, caught himself smiling, and snapped his eyes back to the road.

“You going to answer that?”

“She’ll leave a message.”

The buzzing stopped.

“You feel bad,” Tori observed.

“I feel practical. She’s probably calling to see how you’re doing. I’ll call her back once we’re settled and I’m not driving.”

“Settled at your place. Where I’m apparently staying whether I like it or not.”

“You could always sleep in your car. I hear the back seat of a Honda Civic is surprisingly comfortable.”

“I drive a Range Rover.”

“Even better. More room to stretch out.”