High Noon

house wherever you want and give you a hundred thousand. She took the deal, and six months later called me out here. She was already packed. She had the number of a realtor she’d been working with, and had the house already picked out. I could take care of buying the house, and send her a check at Caesars in the meantime. I decided it was time to stop, metaphorically, taking that fist in the face. I had Phin draw up another agreement, then I went out to Vegas, did the deal, gave her the papers, which she signed without a blink. She took the check, and that was that.”
    “How long ago?”
    “Going on five years now. She got a job serving drinks, ended up catching the eye of some high roller. He paid to track down the old man, get a legal divorce. They got married two years ago.”
    “And you live here.”
    “Seemed a shame to waste this place. Figured I’d sell it, but it kind of grew on me. And it was a point, too. Point being sometimes you don’t get what you want, and it doesn’t matter if it’s fair or not. So you better find something else.”
    It was amazing, really, she realized. One evening had satisfied her sensible and her lustful parts. She’d not only had stupendous sex, not only gotten to know him better, but had come to understand him.
    “I don’t have to tell you she didn’t deserve you.”
    “No. She might’ve deserved the badass in training, but she didn’t deserve who I figured out to be—with a little help from my friends.”
    “Did you buy that house for Ma Bee, the one where we were on Sunday?”
    “All the kids—which includes me—went together on that three years ago. She’d take it, you see, from all of us, from the family, but she wouldn’t have taken it from any single one of us. If you see the difference.”
    “Yes, I do. And what about Jake? What happened to him?”
    “He does the contracting, when I pick up a place. His father went into construction after he got out of the ring, a few years before my own fateful day with them. Jake went into the business. He’s good at it.”
    “I bet he is.” Obligingly, she plopped another slice of pizza on his plate. “You have a way of picking them.”
    “I do.” He laid a hand over hers. “With a few disappointing exceptions, I have a hell of a way of picking them.”

16
    The air was full of sounds, the peeps, the clicks, the whirls of night, when Duncan walked her to her car. “So…what do you think about taking a sail some evening?”
    “I think that would be very nice—some evening. It’s a little hard for me to miss too many evenings at home. Added to that, you’ve been lucky so far that I haven’t gotten called in before or during one of the evenings.”
    She turned, leaned back against the car. “You’re complicating things for yourself, dating not only a cop but a single parent.”
    “Complications are interesting, especially when you figure out how to work them around the simple.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Some evening.”
    “All right.” She reached for the car door, turned back to follow impulse. “Why don’t you come over for dinner this week? It wouldn’t be without its complications, but my mother’s already fallen for you.”
    “Yeah? Well, if I didn’t get anywhere with you, I figured to hit on her next.” He tucked Phoebe’s hair behind her ear, gave the little gold hoop she wore a tap. “She makes a hell of a cookie.”
    “She certainly does. Thursday work? It would give them enough time to fuss appropriately for company, and not give them quite enough time to drive me crazy with the details of it.”
    “I can do Thursday.”
    She angled her head. “You don’t have a book to check? Appointments to consider?”
    “I can do Thursday,” he repeated, and this time when he kissed her, he turned up the dial until heat balled in her belly.
    “Well.” She rubbed her lips together. “Well, I’d better go before I decide staying’s an option. Because it isn’t,” she said, nudging him back when he started to speak. “Thursday. Six o’clock.” She laughed as she slid into the car. “It’s a school night.”
    “As long as I don’t have to do any homework. You drive safe, Phoebe. And you should wait until you’re home before you think about me. Otherwise you’ll get all stirred up, maybe drive off the road.”
    She drove away laughing—just, she imagined—as he’d intended. Still, she’d just have to risk getting herself stirred up, because he’d given her