Page 24 of All At Once

His next breath was the most relaxed and focused he’d experienced in days. He was still an ass because of last night, but in this moment, he could think.

He would get his shit together if it killed him.

Was this how Daddy felt, after Will’s death? He’d loved Mama, sure, but even before, he hadn’t really leaned in, always chasing the next case.

Tick didn’t want to be that. The leadership path meant more demands on his capacity, but he would be guiding, not chasing. He could get lost in the work, but he never wanted the Bureau to be more important than his family.

Than the woman next to him.

An I’m sorry formed on his tongue, but she deserved more than a rushed apology at work.

She deserved the best he could give her. Lately, he wasn’t even close.

He didn’t know what to say.

Wednesday nights meant dinner at church, prayer service while the girls attended their activities, and a video call with Gene and Louise. Zeb trotting at his side, he stared at his phone screen, at Gene’s gaunt face, a lump in his throat to match the one in his gut.

And the absence . . . the empty space where Louise should be.

That ripped a hollow in his chest.

“How’re those girls of yours?” Grandaddy wiped his mouth with a white handkerchief.

“They’re good.” They’d been home ten or fifteen minutes, long enough for homework or piano practice to start. “How are you?”

Dumbass question, and he knew it as soon as the words were out.

“Not gonna lie, boy.” Gene’s dark eyes, the same shade as his own, glistened. “I’m having a right hard time.”

“I know.” His own voice choked him. They were only six days in, and if he was struggling, how much worse it had to be for Gene.

“What about this new jobs of yours? You doing all right?” Gene sniffed and shifted in his recliner. “Tell me about that.”

He cleared his throat, pausing as Zeb sniffed along the edge of Mrs. Marchetti’s yard, tail wagging. “I’ve got six agents. We’re looking at a series of cargo thefts.”

Gene brightened a little, a gleam of intrigue in his eyes as he put forth a series of questions. Just like talking to Caitlin, Gene brought his thinking into focus. Seeing Grandaddy engaged calmed him, and the puzzle seemed to give Gene something as well.

As he and Zeb approached the house, golden light spilling from the windows onto the lawn, the landscape lighting casting pools of warmth on the steps, he ended the call. Inside, he rubbed Zeb behind his ears and unclipped the leash, hanging it in the laundry room while Zeb attacked his kibble.

Clair de Lune drifted from the living room. Eleanor had been working on the piece for weeks, since just after the holidays. Down the hall to the girls’ rooms, the bathroom door was half-open, the shower running. In the kitchen, Caitlin patted out a biscotti loaf on a cookie sheet.

“Hey.” Anchoring a hand at her waist, he dipped his head to kiss her.

“Hi.” A loose strand of dark hair curved along her cheek.

He waited until she slid the pan into the oven and set the timer. Darting a quick glance at Eleanor, he pitched his voice low. “Listen, I know I messed up—”

“Your timing is impeccable, Lamar.” She stowed the mixing bowl in the dishwasher.

“Don’t be mean to me. We have two kids.” Not like they hadn’t cleaned up a fight or a misunderstanding in their breathing spaces before. He laid a hand on her hip and brought her to a stop before she wiped down the island, then flexed his fingers. “My head’s a mess this week, and I know it. Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t take care of you.”

One hand propped on the marble next to her cloth, she gazed at him, dark green gaze steady and unshuttered. “Sex for the purpose of physical release is absolutely fine, Lamar. You need it, and I benefit. What’s not fine is your acting like a jackass afterward.”

“I get it.” He grimaced. And he’d done it twice now — in the bathroom at Mama’s after the funeral and then in their bed the night before. He ran a hand through his hair and scuffed his nape. “Don’t know what to do with this.”

“There is nothing to do. That’s the problem.”

The wry note in her voice drew his gaze to hers. The problem was she knew him all the way through. There was no hiding with her.