I arrived home around midnight. I didn’t notice anything different when I drove into the garage, but panicked when I heard the commotion coming from inside the house—the screams, the wailing. My heart beat as I thought of my girls being in danger. They weren’t mine, but I loved them both as if they were. When I came out of the garage, there was a man lying on the ground. Bleeding on the sidewalk.

I put down the report, shaking my head. It feels wrong to be reading it without Abby present. Though, so far, Corbin Stanley’s testimony has all my attention. I focus on our upcoming date instead. The online app to make the reservations doesn’t work, but I’m able to talk to the manager. After going through my closet, I decide on a pair of jeans, a dark jacket and a button-down shirt.

In the bathroom, there’s a heart shaped sticky note on the mirror.

Thank you for being my person. A

I’ve got no idea when she did this, but I love finding these simple notes around my house and in the office. The sweet gesture however doesn’t take away the gravity of the documents on top of my credenza.

Would it be okay to read it before Abby does? The truth is that I have no fucking idea how she’ll react once she reads through it, or how she’ll feel if I read it before she does. If going through the documents feels like violating her trust, then why the fuck am I staring at the papers? I worry that whatever it says might affect her. It might take a toll on her emotional and mental health.

“Ready, Ahern?” Her voice comes through my closed door.

I shove them inside my drawer deciding we are going to focus on ourselves for the next couple of weeks. The past, her stepfather, and anything that happened that night isn’t going to tamper with our time together. I put on my watch, grab my cell, the box containing a charm I bought for her, and the car keys before leaving my room.

She’s going to love what I got her. I want the entire night to be perfect. I made a reservation at Edgewood, one of her favorite restaurants in the area. The manager promised to have her table ready—the one next to the fire place with an astonishing view of the lake.

“So that’s how this is going to be? You’re just leaving me to fend for myself?” Sterling can’t disguise the smirk on his face.

“We could bring him along,” Abby suggests.

The selfless soul is falling for his antics.

“There’s frozen pizza. Or you can order online,” I say handing him the takeout menus.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he says with a low voice. “It’s fine. I can go a night without dinner.”

Abby shakes her head and goes to the kitchen. “Linda spoiled you.” She turns on the oven pulls out a frozen meal from the freezer and her little notepad.

“Here, Slugger,” she scribbles and hands him a note. “You can follow the instructions. I’ll make sure to bring you a piece of chocolate cake on our way back.”

“Thank you, my sweetest friend.” He blows her a kiss.

“If I had to choose between the two of you, I’d keep her.” He gives me a glance and marches toward the kitchen.

“Ready?” I grab Abby’s hand and kiss the back of it. “You look gorgeous.”

“The word is fucking-hot, big brother.”

“That’s two words,” Abby corrects him. “You should work on your lines. Maybe one day you’ll find the one.”

He glares at her. “Who the fuck said I ever wanted to settle down? That shit isn’t for me. You two kids have fun.”

“My, aren’t we a little defensive tonight?” She mumbles under her breath.

“You do look hot.”

Edible. She wears a long flouncy dress. The fabric is see-through. Under it, she wears a low cut, sleeveless top and a mini skirt that defines her curves and allows me to see her toned legs. Her wavy hair cascades down her back.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Wes.” She smiles at me. “But you always look hot no matter what.”

“Hmm?” I arch an eyebrow. “You think I’m hot?”

“Good looking at best,” she says disregarding her first comment. “Who really cares about a tall, lean, muscular guy with dreamy deep-blue eyes?” She shakes her head. “Not me, obviously.”

“I should’ve done this a long time ago,” I say opening the door of the Jeep. I lower my head and take her mouth with mine, kissing her deeply.

She tastes like strawberries, and I want to lick the rest of her—feast on her. I stop myself before I lose control of my body and do something stupid. Like take her right here, on top of the car.

“You know those times I’ve baked, and you try to control yourself, but instead you eat almost the entire cake in one sitting?” she asks as she climbs in the car.

“Uh-huh,” I say, staring at her.

“Afterwards your face turns red with embarrassment, yet your eyes are satiated, like you just ate a piece of heaven.”

“Your baking is like a piece of heaven,” I reiterate and close her door.

When I get in the car and turn on the engine she says, “Well, that’s the same face you make after you kiss me.”

I laugh, pretending that her analogy makes no sense. But deep down, I know what she’s talking about. That’s precisely what happens to me when I kiss her.

“Well, I promise not to eat you in one sitting.” I stop at the sign and glance at her. “Just yet.”

She stretches her neck and kisses my jaw. “We’ll see.”