Page 29 of Death on Riddle Road

I wanted to say I didn’t want him to get used to it — to have to get used to it.But that might sound like I didn’t want him to do this job he loved.And that would be worse.

“You’re a good man, Teague O’Donnell.”

One side of his mouth lifted.“’Bout time you recognized that.”

I jumped to a topic I hadn’t known I was going to raise now.Despite my nocturnal activities.

The thing about nocturnal activities is you don’t have to assign them logical, succinct words.Not for the doubts and wonderings that surround the activities, much less for the hopes and dreams.

But here it came, out of my mouth.

“Why don’t you ever suggest I stay overnight at your place?”

He leaned back against the edge of the door jamb.“It’s small.The HVAC’s not great, so it’s warm in the summer, cold in the winter.And you are deeply attached to this house.”

Surprised and rather pleased at both the truth of what he’d said and that he’d paid close enough attention to come to that conclusion, I said, “I am, aren’t I?”

“You are.I’d say you love the place, except you’re changing it piece by piece, so maybe you love what you think it can be.”

I’d have to think about that.No time now for contemplation, because he kept talking.

“All around, it seems better — more comfortable for all of us—” He included the dogs, of course.“—to be here.Do you mind?”

“Mind?No,” I said emphatically, “In fact, I see your points about your place.As a matter of practicality...”

Then I stalled.Why had I brought in practicality?

“You don’t want to stay at my place,” Teague summarized.“Are you saying you don’t want me staying here?”

“No!” I drew in much-needed oxygen.“I like you staying here.I’m good with you staying here.I wouldn’t really mind staying at your place sometimes, if you prefer that, but...”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay, so we both prefer staying here.I mean — assuming you want us to stay in the same place—”

“That’s a yes,” he interrupted firmly.

I let out the breath I’d been holding, feeling the pressure of it on my ribs now that I’d released it.This breathing stuff was getting complicated.I needed to get this out so I could get back to a normal in and out rhythm.

“Okay.Then, I thought — I mean, I want to, because it would be so much easier with your schedule changing every day, especially with the sheriff’s department and times like now with a case.Oh, hell.I want to give you a key to the house.”

“A key,” he repeated, as if it were a concept from another planet.

“So it’s easier for you to come and go and you won’t feel you have to stay at your place because you might come in late and disturb me after I’m already in bed.”

I saw the amusement in his eyes before I heard it full-force in his voice.“You sure you’re not hoping I’ll talk in my sleep and you’ll find out more about the investigation that way?Trying to take advantage of a member of law enforcement?”

I propped my hands on my hips and mock-glared.“I like that.Here I am, trying to be nice and make things more convenient for you and I get an accusation like that.”

He chuckled, slid one arm between my bent elbow and my ribs, and brought us together.

“It’s very nice and—,” He gave the next words more meaning.“—it would be much more convenient forus.”

“There’s that, too,” I said briskly.

This time he laughed.

Without breaking contact, I reached over to the counter — sometimes a small kitchen is really convenient — and pulled out the key on the plain loop, with the paper stuck through it.He took it and kissed me with unspoken promise for later.