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But he pulled her in first. “I’m glad you texted.”
“Me, too.”
She leaned into him for a moment. “What are we going to do with all the extra time once you finish the house, and they catch these serial abductors?”
“I guess we’ll find out. And not ‘they catch.’ It’s ‘we.’ You’re a part of that.”
“I feel like I’ve hit a wall.”
“You can tell me about that. But the beer comes first.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
They ate at the island, a beer for Nash, a glass of Chardonnay for Sloan. The treat hadn’t lessened Tic’s appetite, so he made quick work of his meal before rushing outside to sniff and run.
“Let’s start with this before I get rolling. When you finish the bathroom palace, the bedroom, the porch, what’s next here?”
“Back to the main level, I think. Living room, library… sitting room, den.”
“I thought you were doing a game room. Sitting room?”
“Undecided room right now. I’m switching the game room downstairs. We’ve got the space.”
He ate a hush puppy. “Where the hell did these get a name like hush puppy?”
“It’s a southern thing, Yankee. But I just call them good. And the Seabreeze makes the best in the county. I know the chef there. His fiancé and I went to high school together, and he did some work for All the Rest while he studied, well, chefing. His hush puppies are a secret family recipe, I’m told.”
“The cod’s nothing to complain about either.”
“I was on boat duty today, and there were two guys from up your way fishing.”
“New Yorkers?’
“New Jersey.”
He gave her a long look. “That isn’t my way.”
“Sorry. They were using walleye as bait.” She shook her head. “Can’t do that down my way.”
He couldn’t imagine, just couldn’t, having this conversation with anyone a year ago. And found himself delighted to have it with her.
“Did you arrest them for the walleye offense?”
“No. Just let them know where to get the right bait. Do you fish?”
“I went out deep-sea fishing with a client. An experience.”
“Catch anything?”
“A wahoo. Yeah, an experience. I’m glad I did it, and don’t have to do it again.”
“Like bowling?”
“If I had to choose between?” He gave it two seconds thought. “I’d take the high seas.”
“Me, too. Bowling’s okay, and it takes skill, focus. I respect that. But you knock the pins down, then they set them up again. Again and again.”
He shifted to her, ran a hand down her hair. “Are you ready now?”