Page 33 of The Couple’s Secret (Detective Josie Quinn #23)

Twenty-Nine

“Tell me everything,” Josie said.

From where he stood at the foot of the bed, Noah grinned at her.

He tucked his polo shirt into his khakis.

His hair was damp from a shower and tousled exactly the right amount to give her dirty thoughts.

By the time she got home from Brighton Springs, dinner was long over and Wren had retreated to her room to study for her finals.

Noah and Wren had eaten all the pasta, so Josie ordered a pizza, which she dug into while she and Noah discussed the Lachlan/Stevens case.

By tacit agreement, they didn’t dare discuss Wren where she might overhear them.

She made a brief appearance to tell them good night before going to bed.

After that, Josie and Noah had gone to their room.

Unfortunately, he was due on the overnight shift, which didn’t give them much time together.

“It was interesting,” Noah said. “The food was good. Much better than either of us could have made.”

Josie rolled her eyes. “No shit. We suck. How was she? Did she talk? What did she say?”

“She asked me if I liked the pasta. I said yes. She gave me a long play-by-play on how to make it. I asked her about school. She said it was boring and that she hates that the only thing adults ever ask kids is ‘how is school?’”

“She has a point,” Josie said. Again, she had the sensation of her heart soaring and sinking almost simultaneously.

This was huge progress. She was thrilled that Wren had spoken so freely, acted like a real member of the household, but sad that she hadn’t been there for it.

Then again, would Wren have opened up if Josie had also been there?

Was it easier for her to talk with them one on one?

The morning Josie had come home from finding Tobias Lachlan’s sedan, stinking of rot and river, Wren had said more to her than she had in the previous month.

“She asked me what’s the most annoying question that I get as an adult?”

Josie laughed. That sounded like an icebreaker question that Turner would ask Dr. Feist. “What did you say?”

“Like you don’t know.” He sat on the edge of the bed and started pulling on his boots.

“It’s either ‘Do you have any plans for the weekend?’ or ‘Are you ready for the holidays?’”

Noah chuckled. “The holiday one is seasonal.”

“There are a lot of holidays.”

“I told her it was ‘Do you have any plans for the weekend?’”

Josie crawled toward him, pressing her chest against his back. She rested her hands on his shoulders and breathed in his aftershave. “Then what?”

Boots laced, he turned his head and kissed her lightly. “That was it.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t take that long to eat. I thanked her for the meal and did the dishes. She stayed at the table awhile, drawing.”

Wren was always drawing. She hadn’t yet shown them any of her art. They’d both asked but she’d told them none of her stuff was ready for anyone to see. Josie suspected she just didn’t want to let them in. After all, she’d shown it to Erica, Misty, and Harris.

“How long was she at the table?”

“I don’t know. Ten, fifteen minutes? I didn’t try to engage her at that point,” Noah said. “Didn’t want to push my luck.”

“That’s a lot though.”

Josie slumped, ecstatic and disappointed at the same time.

Parenting was weird. If that’s what this could be called.

Noah kissed her again and then stood to retrieve his phone from his nightstand.

He punched in his passcode, tapped, swiped and then handed it to her. Josie’s breath caught in her throat.

“Wh-what is this?”

“Wren left her sketchbook open. It was on the kitchen table. She took Trout out back for a few minutes.”

“Noah!” Josie chided, even as her eyes traced every detail of the portrait Wren had lovingly drawn of her father. “That’s an invasion of her privacy.”

“Swipe left,” he said.

In spite of herself, she did, only to gasp.

This drawing was far from finished but there was enough detail to clearly identify them—Josie and Noah—in profile.

They were face to face, smiling at one another.

It was beautiful. Dex had been right. His daughter was far more artistically talented than he’d been, which was saying a hell of a lot.

“Noah,” Josie breathed. “This is…”

“Not a drawing of us as villains.”

She laughed. “That’s good news, but you shouldn’t have taken these pictures. I just had a talk with her about privacy. You have to delete them.”

He took his phone back, gazing at the picture. “It was a plain-view search.”

Josie rolled her eyes. Trust a law enforcement officer to use the plain-view doctrine to justify snooping in his own damn home. Josie would have lectured him, but she was positive she would have done the same thing in his shoes. They both wanted so badly to know more about Wren.

“I don’t think Wren would see it that way,” Josie told him. “Please delete them.”

He turned the screen toward her so she could watch him delete the photos. “I never intended to keep them,” he said. “I felt guilty as soon as I took them. I just wanted to show you.”

“Thank you.”

Noah put on his belt, securing his pistol in its holster. “I’ve got to go. See you in the morning?”

Josie nodded. It would be heaven to sleep in her own bed again, even if it was without him. “Noah,” she said before he reached the door.

His shoulders tensed. Turning slowly back to her, he said, “I think we should go forward with the vow renewal. Drake suggested finding a way to incorporate Wren into the ceremony. To demonstrate our commitment to her as well as each other.”

Noah knew damn well that the vow renewal was not what she wanted to discuss but she was instantly distracted by Drake’s suggestion.

It was brilliant. Why hadn’t she thought of it herself?

Probably because her anxiety over wanting Wren to open up to them consumed every moment she didn’t spend obsessing over the Lachlan/Stevens case.

Still.

“Wren is pretty guarded,” Josie said. “It’s a great idea, but do you think she would even be open to it?”

“No way to know unless we ask.”

Her stomach roiled just thinking about how to have that conversation.

Would being a guardian always be like this?

Second-guessing every word, every action, every thought?

Spending hours, sometimes days, planning what to say so she didn’t screw things up with Wren?

Spiraling? Thinking about thinking about things instead of just acting?

Josie had always been so assured in most areas of her life although to be fair, the majority of her life revolved around work.

But being competent at her job relied heavily on her ability to read people correctly, to know what to say to them in any given situation.

She’d interrogated serial killers with more finesse than she was capable of when it came to speaking with Wren about pretty simple stuff.

Noah’s knuckles grazed her cheek. He had closed the distance between them without her even noticing. “You’re overthinking this. Sleep on it. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

She clasped her hand over his wrist. “We need to talk about the other thing.”

He went rigid, eyes darkening. “Not now, Josie. I have to go.”

This time, he didn’t hesitate at the door, striding into the hallway.

“Fine,” Josie called after him, making her tone breezy in case Wren overheard. “We’ll discuss it later.”