Page 35 of Don't Say a Word

“It’s Margo.”

“You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you never call me.”

“You don’t call me either,” I snapped.

“I’m sorry, I’m preoccupied.”

“You’re working.”

“On my way to a major accident at Bell and Thirty-Fifth. Likely DUI, injuries, the whole nine yards.”

It had to be serious, because as a sergeant, Rick was generally only called out when they needed someone in command to manage the scene.

“I have some questions about an old case you worked. Do you have time tonight? Tomorrow?”

“Not tonight—I don’t know how long I’ll be at the scene, and I don’t like getting home after midnight. Lunch tomorrow?”

It felt so easy. Maybe because I was still basking in the affection of Gabriel and Tess, but I couldn’t help but think what would have happened between Rick and me if both of us were less stubborn and more forgiving.

“Name the time and place.”

“Twelve thirty, Lenny’s or Orozco’s?”

“You’re making me hungry already,” I said, thinking of Lenny’s delicious and cheap(ish) cheeseburgers. And 12:30 should be doable—if I didn’t track down Angie in the morning, I had the standing appointment with Lena at 11:20. “Lenny’s,” I said. My cousins owned Orozco’s, and while I loved the food, I wanted privacy.

“Bet you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“I had cheese and crackers,” I said.

He snorted. “I’m rolling up to the scene now, see you tomorrow.” He ended the call without asking me specifically what I wanted to talk about.

My love life had never been as turbulent as my sister’s. In high school, I’d had one boyfriend. We weren’t really in love (though we thought we were), and when we graduated, we went our separate ways.

In the Army, I never dated anyone in my unit, which would have been awkward. But meeting civilians wasn’t easy, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to maintain a relationship. I dated a firefighter for a while, but he was more serious than I was. Then a construction worker for more than a year. We had fun, but it wasn’t going anywhere.

Growing up in my family, casual relationships weren’t the norm. Dating was about finding your soulmate. It was hard to shake that mindset, and I didn’t want to. Too many of my friends had gone from person to person, never landing anywhere, and none of them seemed happy.

I firmly believe you had to be happy with yourself first beforeyou could be happy with someone else. And for the most part, I was. My dad once called me an “optimistic pessimist,” and that pretty much fit.

I left the Army at twenty-four. While bartending and starting my PI business, I met and fell in love with Charlie Endicott. I thought he wasThe One. He made me feel special in a way no one else had. The flutter in my stomach when I saw him, how hearing his voice lifted my mood, how I looked forward to the time we spent together. Sex was deeper, more passionate. Love does that. I hadn’t known until Iknew.

And once I knew, I couldn’t go back.

Charlie was the first man I truly loved. He left me for the first womanhehad ever loved. I never doubted that he loved me when we were together, but when his high school sweetheart returned to Phoenix, he realized he still had feelings for her and thus, we parted ways.

Rick was my friend before we became lovers. Rick needed a date to a wedding and practically begged me to come. I didn’t have plans, so I said yes. We had a fantastic time, the chemistry was obvious, and things just continued.

He was exactly my type—fit, active, spontaneous. He liked hiking and hot air balloon rides, but also lazy mornings in bed and soaking in hot tubs. We took it slow, mostly because of his daughter, Sam. We were comfortable.

But Rick and I are both stubborn and set in our ways. He didn’t mind that I was a PI, but he hated how close I came to crossing legal lines. So I stopped telling him everything. We’d argue, break up, get back together, and have fantastic make-up sex. Rick also had some baggage. A divorce after his wife left him for France, leaving him with their six-year-old daughter. An abusive, alcoholic father. Certain cases got under his skin, bringing back memories he didn’t like to talk about. He never crossed any hard lines, but it was enough to affect his future with the department. I could handle it, but he wouldn’t let me in.

Ultimately, those problems we could have overcome because Iloved him and we had a comfortable relationship. I grew close to Sam, more like a big sister than a mother figure. When she confided in me about something and asked me not to tell her dad, I agreed. He found out anyway and exploded.

That moment made things clear. He didn’t see me in his life for the long haul. Because if I was going to love—and maybe marry—Rick Devlin, I was all-in, and that meant being Sam’s stepmother. But he didn’t trust me, and that hurt.