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“She’d play them every Saturday. Full-blast. We had these dance parties in the living room. Barefoot on the carpet, spinning and falling all over the place.”

Her voice goes soft near the end, but she smiles. There’s something wistful behind her eyes. Her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, and a loose wave of brown hair falls forward until she tucks it behind her ear.

“I think she did it to tire all of us out so we’d go to bed early.”

I chuckle. “Smart woman.”

I study her for a second longer. There’s a quiet there that feels loaded, but I don’t pry.

“What was your favorite?” I ask.

“There were so many, but if I had to name three…” She leans back and blows out a thoughtful breath before her eyes light up. “Oh man, definitelyRumoursby Fleetwood Mac. I lovedTapestryby Carole King, too. AndThe Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. I played that one to death.”

I nod, pointing my fork at her. “Rumourswas recorded over a year because half the band hated each other.Tapestry? Still one of the best-selling albums of all time. And Lauryn Hill? One studio album, but five Grammys. And the only one you mentioned that I don’t have.”

Big brown eyes light with amusement. “Okay, music encyclopedia. I see you.”

For fuck’s sake, Wes, you’re letting your nerd show.

She tilts her head. “What got you into collecting?”

I lean back and glance at the overstuffed shelves. “Amber went through a phase when we were teenagers. Got really into it for, like, six months. I got interested and didn’t stop.”

She straightens a little. “Amber? That’s your sister’s name?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, is all. And her husband?”

“Mike.”

She nods, like she’s filing it away. “Got it.”

I look at the shelves again. “It got a little out of control.”

She tilts her head and shrugs. “I’d say it got a lot out of control, but it could be worse. It could be a cocaine addiction.”

I gawk at her.

This woman says the strangest fucking things.

“True,” I say slowly, eyeing her asher face flushes a pale pink.

“So, what’s the damage? With Ruby?” she finally asks.

I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “A few things need tightening up. Some minor adjustments. If you’re comfortable with it, I can drop you home and pick you up in the morning if you leave the car with me overnight.”

Lena chews her lip between her teeth. “How much is all this going to cost?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s payment enough knowing my niece will be safe.”

She stares at me, like she’s trying to decide whether to argue or take the win. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Sure you can.”