Page 71 of Protecting What's Mine

“Betty Crocker and Betty Ford,” she said, nodding at the pitcher on the butcher block. “Tom Collins courtesy of Mrs. Washington.”

“God bless small towns,” he said reverently. “How about you pour a couple of those Tom Collins and sit your ass on the deck while I grill? We’ll talk about our days like a nice married couple.”

“The worst, Reed. You’re the worst.”

But they did just that. Linc put the flowers in water and brought throw pillows from the couch to elevate Mack’s foot on a chair. And while he grilled marinated chicken and Sunshine romped around the backyard trying to catch bugs, they compared their days.

“Seven firefighters, Christa and Jillian—your sisters pumped me for information on whether or not we’re dating— Gloria and Aldo with pie that we can eat with the cookies, Mrs. Washington with the much-appreciated alcohol supplies, Harper and Sophie brought ice cream to eat with the pie. My new pal Ellen came by with a health-conscious fruit tray and a couple of Blu-rays to keep me entertained. And Tuesday, Freida, and Russell popped by on their lunch break to tell me they’re giving me tomorrow off, too.” She ticked them all off on her fingers and tried to look annoyed.

But he could tell it had touched her. Annoyed her, sure. But also touched her.

They enjoyed huge, grilled-to-perfection chicken salads and a second Tom Collins for them both…because why not?

“What kind of pie is it?” Linc asked. Gloria Moretta’s reputation as a sinful angel in the kitchen was well-earned.

“Apple with one of those fancy lattice crusts,” she said.

“I’ll warm up the pie,” he volunteered.

“I’ll get the ice cream.”

He helped her out of the chair, and because the humans were abandoning her, Sunshine raced across the yard and beat them both to the back door.

“How did it go with my girl today?” he asked.

He noted the fond look Mack sent the dog as Sunshine shoved her face in the opening, forcing the door open wider.

“She was good company. She’s a little on the needy side,” Mack said. “But I didn’t mind having her around. I think I’m starting to speak dog.” In response, Sunshine plopped down, blocking the entrance and stared lovingly up at the pretty doctor.

He and Mack were going to get married and have babies and yellow labs everywhere, Linc decided.

“Move it, pretty girl,” he said, nudging the dog out of their way.

He caught the wince on Mack’s face when she shifted her weight. He pointed her in the direction of the tiny kitchen table and planted her in the chair. Doctors were the worst patients. She’d probably spent half the day on her feet.

“I’m tired of resting.”

“Yeah, well, that broken bone isn’t gonna heal itself with you walking half-marathons on it, now is it?”

“No one likes a know-it-all,” she complained.

“I’ll bring you the ingredients. You plate the dessert. Points for presentation,” he told her.

He found the pie in the fridge, bowls in the cabinet by the sink, and the ice cream in the otherwise empty freezer.

“Take one last look at this perfection before I massacre it into slices,” he said, holding the pie up. They admired it for a full three seconds.

“Okay, I’m ready for the massacre,” Mack decided.

The doorbell rang halfway through the second stab of the knife. When Mack merely groaned and slumped in her chair, Linc went to see who it was. Sunshine, he noted, stayed with Mack…and the pie.

Sheriff Ty Adler, in uniform, squad car in Mack’s driveway, took off his hat.

“Bein’ neighborly?” he asked Linc with a grin.

“Bein’ sheriffy?” Linc shot back.

“Wish it were a social call. Is the lady of the house around, or are you just breaking in to sniff her undies while she’s out?”