Page 35 of Pretty Poison

“What about the rest of your stuff?”

“The movers should be here in a few days.”

“What are you going to do with your things if your rental house isn’t ready?”

Asher shrugged. “Store them in the garage.”

“No way,” Rocky said. “Your vinyl record collection will be ruined. You can store them here if you need to.”

“Thank you.” Asher nodded at his plate. “Eat your breakfast.”

Rocky gave him a playful salute with his fork before tucking into his eggs. “Be safe.”

“Always.”

Rocky heard the front door closing a few moments later. He finished his breakfast, tidied the kitchen, then headed into the bathroom to get ready for the day. The small space was still humid from Asher’s recent shower, and the scent of his husband’s shampoo and bodywash lingered in the air, wreaking havoc on Rocky’s heart. Asher’s razor, comb, toothbrush, and aftershave were scattered all around the sink. He touched each one as a reminder that he wasn’t dreaming. Asher was in Savannah, presumably to stay.

If Rocky had viewed his random luck at the craps table as a sign, why couldn’t he also see Asher’s promotion in the same light? Had fate granted them a second chance?

If so, was he brave enough to seize it?

Daisy’s Place had become the trio of trouble’s favorite hangout. They’d met the drag queen while probing Earl Ison’s murder at Marla’s behest. Through the investigation, Rocky, Jonah, and Felix had uncovered Bo Cahill’s coerced confession, which had garnered national attention for their podcast. Everyone working at the diner dressed in full drag and served up snarky banter with the delicious, homemade food. Asher would eat his weight in Daisy’s homemade pies if he ever found out about the diner.

Rocky caught the tail end of the queens dancing to “Raise You Up” fromKinky Bootsas he walked in. The patrons clapped and cheered while dropping tips into a hat being passed around by a barrel-chested leather daddy.

Edgar, Daisy’s husband, stopped in front of him and quirked a brow. Even though Rocky had only caught the last few seconds of the performance, he dropped a five-dollar bill in the hat.

The older man narrowed his eyes and studied Rocky. “Something is different about you this morning.”

“New aftershave,” Rocky said.

“Nah, that’s not it.” Edgar tilted his bald head to the side. “You look…less pretty.”

Unsure if it was a backhanded compliment or an insult, Rocky just smiled and said, “Thank you. It’s good to see you, Edgar.”

“Likewise. You should come around more often,” Edgar replied before moving on.

Rocky searched the crowded diner and located Jonah and Felix in a corner booth at the rear. Jonah glanced up and smiled at him, and Felix pivoted in his seat to watch him approach. Felix’s cocky grin spelled trouble, so Rocky walked to Jonah’s side of the table and dropped onto the bench beside him.

“You don’t want to sit next to me?” Felix asked.

Rocky shook his head. “It’s easier for me to kick you from over here.”

“Ouch,” Felix said. “Why bother with physical abuse when your words are as sharp as razors?”

“Says the man who eviscerated the governor on the front page of the paper this morning,” Jonah said, saluting Felix with his coffee cup before taking a sip.

Felix shrugged. “It’s only going to get worse for the asshole the longer he drags out the posthumous pardon for Bo Cahill. I will leave no stone unturned.”

“Don’t you worry that your approach will have an adverse reaction?” Rocky asked as he poured a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. “People might view it as you bullying the man into pardoning Bo.”

Felix slid the sugar and creamer to him. “I’m all out of fucks. Are you worried my exposé on the governor’s questionable business dealings will backfire on us?”

“I believe wholeheartedly in our mission to obtain a pardon for Bo,” Rocky replied.

“But?” Jonah prodded.

Rocky suddenly felt like he was walking a tightrope. One false move wouldn’t send him careening to his death, at least not a physical one. The ramifications on his professional and personal life, though, were enormous. Not just his, either. What about Jonah and Felix? What about Asher? Resting his hand on his sternum had become automatic, and he wasn’t even aware of it until Felix’s gaze followed the motion.