Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

I was at the table in the garage apartment, trying to finish this son of a bitch of a puzzle. How many different shades of red were there? I had never really considered that I might be color-blind, but I kept putting the wrong shades of red together and the pieces still weren’t matching up.

This was what I got for buying a used puzzle that had to be at least twenty years old. Maybe it was faded or the color had yellowed with time. Whatever it was, it was making this a whole lot more complicated than it needed to be. And I was cursing at myself over this puzzle that I shouldn’t have bought on clearance at a resale store when I heard the garage door rolling up downstairs.

I had just picked up another piece when I heard Amos yell from downstairs—not this panicky thing of terror but just frantic enough to make me sit up straight. Just in time for him to shout again.

“Am?” I yelled, dropping the puzzle piece to the table and heading straight downstairs. I opened the garage door and peeked my head out. “Am? You okay?”

“No!” the kid pretty much shrieked. “Help!”

I threw the door wide. Amos stood in the center of the garage, head tipped back as he stared at the ceiling with a look of pure helplessness on his face. “Look! What do we do?”

“What the hell,” I muttered, finally taking in what he was freaking out over.

There was a massive stain on the ceiling. Dark, dark gray patches were formed along the Sheetrock. A few drops of water dripped onto the floor at Amos’s feet, just short of where most of his music equipment was.

There was a leak. “Do you know where the water shutoff is?”

“The what?” he asked, still staring at the ceiling like his vision alone was going to be enough to prevent the Sheetrock from crumbling and water from flooding down.

“The water shutoff,” I explained, already whipping around to find what I was pretty sure I knew what to look for. When the Antichrist’s child and I had found the home that he eventually bought—and like a dumbass I had been fine with them not putting me on the deed because someone could look up the records and ask questions—I remembered the realtor pointing at something along the wall in the garage and specifically mentioning a water shutoff in case of a leak. “It’s a lever thing in the wall. Usually. I think.”

There was no way Rhodes would have let him cover it with padding or mattresses. I knew that. I spotted what I thought could be it and ran over, moving the lever down and shutting off the water into the garage apartment. At least I was pretty sure. One more peek at the bulging ceiling had me focusing.

“Let’s get your stuff out of here before something bad happens,” I told him, snapping my fingers when he focused back up. “Let’s do it, Am, before your stuff gets ruined. Then we can make sure it did get turned off.”

That did it.

Between the two of us, we carried the heavier equipment into the tiny bottom landing that flowed into the stairs that led to the second floor. We pushed the big cab up against the door to the outside to leave room and took turns taking the drum set apart and walking it up to my studio. It took us about six trips each to move all the equipment upstairs; we couldn’t put anything outside because of frost and the risk of snow. It was way too cold now.

By the time we finished moving the most valuable stuff out from the garage—even though it was all valuable to Am because it was his—we were both back downstairs and staring up at the awful-looking ceiling.

“What do you think happened?”

“I think it might be a burst pipe, but I don’t know,” I told him, eyeing the damage. “Have you called your dad?”

He shook his head, eyes still glued to the disaster. “I yelled for you as soon as I saw it.”

I whistled. “Call him. See what he wants to do. I think we should call a plumber, but I don’t know. We should call him first.”

Amos nodded, unable to do anything but stare in horror at the damage.

It hit me then that the water was turned off; I’d checked before coming back down. But the water was off, as in I wouldn’t get water to shower or even fill my water filter to drink. I’d figure it out.

The overhead light started flickering suddenly, a flash-flash-flash of light before it went off completely.

“The breaker box!” I yelled at him before sprinting for the gray frame on the wall. That I knew exactly where it was. I flipped it open and literally flipped every switch.

“Did that mess up the electricity?”

“I don’t know.” I turned to him with a wince. A wince for him. For the amount of money it would cost to get this fixed. Because even I knew that electricity and plumbing issues were going to be a nightmare. “All right. Okay. Let’s go call your dad and tell him.”

Amos nodded and led the way out through the main garage door, heading to his house. I patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. We moved all of your things in time, and nothing was plugged in. Don’t worry.”

The teenager let out a deep, deep sigh, like he’d been holding it in for hours. “Dad’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Yeah, but not at you,” I reassured him.

The look he sent me was one that told me he wasn’t totally convinced that was going to be the case, but I knew it would.

And I’d be nosey and eavesdrop.

We headed into the house. I went to the table in the kitchen, picking up a hunting and fishing magazine stacked neatly in the middle as Amos went for the house phone and punched in some numbers. His face was gloomy as hell. I pretended not to look at him as he held the receiver and let out a deep breath.

He winced right before saying, “Hey, Dad . . . uh, Ora and I think there’s a leak in the garage apartment . . . The ceiling has, like, pockets of water, and there’s drops—what? I don’t know how . . . I just went in there and saw it . . . Ora turned off the water. Then she turned off the power when the lights started flickering . . . Hold on.” The boy held the phone out. “He wants to talk to you.”

I took it. “Hi, Rhodes, how’s your day going? How many people have you busted for not having a permit?” I flashed a grimace-like smile at Amos, who suddenly didn’t look so sick.

Rhodes didn’t say anything for a heartbeat before coming on the line with “It’s going good now.” Excuse me? Was that flirting? “And only two hunters. How’s yours?”

He was really asking me about my day. Who was this man and how could I buy him? “Pretty good. A customer brought me a Bundt cake. I gave Clara half when she gave me the stink eye. I’ll give Am half of my half so you can try it. It’s good.”

Amos was giving me the funniest look, and I winked at him. We were in this together.

“Thanks, Buddy,” he said almost softly. “You mind telling me what happened over there?”

I leaned my hip against the counter and watched as Am slowly moved toward the fridge, still giving me that funny-ass look before ducking in there to root around. He pulled out a can of strawberry soda before pulling out another one and turning to hold it up for me.

I nodded, processing the drink for a second before answering. “What Am said. There’s a huge stain on the ceiling of the garage. There’s water dripping. We moved everything we could out and into the studio upstairs. We turned off the water and the electricity off at the breaker box.”

His exhale was deep, but it didn’t shake.

“I’m sorry, Rhodes. Want me to call a plumber?”

“No, I know one. I’ll give him a call. Sounds like it might be a burst pipe. I was just in the garage this morning and didn’t notice anything, so I don’t think it’s a leak.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t flood it or do anything weird.” I paused. “I’ll leave everything off for now.”

“Put your groceries in our fridge. I’ll tell Am to sleep on the sofa and you can take his room. It shouldn’t get below freezing tonight, so the pipes should be fine today, but it’ll be too cold for you to stay over there.”

I blinked. Stay in Amos’s room? In their house?

Did I want to go stay in a hotel? I could, of course, I could.

But stay in the same house as Rhodes? Mr. Flirty McFlirterson now?

Some part of my body perked up, and I wasn’t going to think twice about which part it was.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “About me staying with you two?”

His voice suddenly went low. “You think I’d invite you to stay if I didn’t want you to?”

Yeah, my body parts were awake. And out of control. “No.”

“Okay.”

“But I can sleep on the couch. Or, seriously, I can stay at a hotel or ask Clara—”

“You don’t need to go stay at a hotel, and they don’t have much room at their house.”

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“We’ll argue over it later,” he said. “I’ve got a few more spots I want to check out, and then I’ll be heading home. Take your stuff over and everything in your fridge so it doesn’t go bad. You got anything heavy, leave it and I’ll grab it when I get home.”

I swallowed. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, angel, I’m sure. I’ll be home soon.”

I hung up the phone, feeling . . . jittery? Staying in the house was no big deal, okay. But it kind of felt like it at the same time.

I liked Rhodes way too much. In small, subtle ways that got under my skin. I liked how good of a father he was, how much he loved his son. And even though I’d loved someone once who had adored a family member more than he would ever care about me, in this case, that love was for very different reasons and in very different ways. He loved him enough to be tough but at the same time let him be his own person.

Rhodes was no Mrs. Jones.

I’d liked him even when he gave me the stink eye. And I had no idea what his plans were. Plans with me. I knew what I wouldn’t mind them looking like but . . .

I happened to look over and found Amos leaning against the counter, looking way too introspective.

“What?” I asked him, popping the tab on my own soda and taking a sip.

The boy shook his head.

“You can tell me anything, Little Sting, and I can tell you want to.”

That seemed to be enough for him. “Are you flirting with my dad?” he straight-up asked.

I almost spit the soda out. “No . . . ?”

He blinked. “No?”

“Maybe?”

Amos raised an eyebrow.

It was my turn to blink. “Yes, okay. Yes. But I flirt with everyone. Men and women. Children. You should see me around pets. I used to have a fish, and I sweet-talked her too. Her name was Gretchen Wieners. I miss her.” She had passed away a few years ago, but I still thought about her from time to time. She’d been a good travel companion. Not fussy at all.

That had the teenager’s cheeks going puffy for a second.

He fucking liked me. I knew it.

“Does it bother you if I flirt with your dad?” I paused. “Would it bother you if I liked him?” That wasn’t the best word to describe it, but it was the simplest.

That got him to scoff. “No! I’m sixteen, not five.”

“But you’re still his wittle baby, Am. And my feelings won’t be hurt”—that was a lie, they would be—“if you weren’t okay with it. You’re my friend too. Just like your dad. I don’t want to make things weird.”

The kid gave me a disgusted expression that made me laugh. “I don’t care. We already talked about it anyway.”

“You did?”

He nodded but didn’t clear up what they’d talked about. Instead, he got a funny look on his face, and I’d bet a finger it was his version of a protective expression. “He’s been alone a long time. Like, a long time. My whole life, he’s had some girlfriends, and none of them lasted that long. With my dad Billy not here and my uncles moving away, he doesn’t have that many friends, not like when he was in the Navy; he knew everybody then.”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with this so I stayed quiet, sensing there was more on his mind.

“My mom told me to tell you that it takes him a while to trust people.”

“Your mom said that?”

“Yeah, she asked me.”

“About your dad . . . and me?”

Amos nodded and took another sip. “Don’t tell him I told you, but you make him smile a lot.”

There went my heart again.

“You look . . . you know, like that, and . . . whatever. I don’t care if you like him, and I don’t care if he likes you. I want him . . . you know . . . to be happy. I don’t want him to regret being here,” he said in a way that told me he meant it, but still felt kind of loaded. Like he was giving me his blessing to follow what my heart was asking for. Not that I even really knew what that was.

“In that case, thank you, Am. I’m positive your dad doesn’t regret anything when it comes to you.” The urge to talk to him about how confusing his father was, was right there, but I wouldn’t do it. Refused to, more like it. “Changing the topic, I guess, I’m staying over tonight and sleeping on the couch since everything is shut off over there. Will you help me bring some of my groceries over, please? I can make dinner, and maybe we can watch a movie or you can let me listen to that song you’ve been working on—”

“Nope.”

I laughed. “It was worth a shot.”

Amos did that tiny smile as he rolled his eyes, and it just made me laugh more.

It was the gentle squeeze on my ankle that had me prying an eyelid open.

The room was dark, but the high ceilings reminded me of where I was, where I’d fallen asleep. On Rhodes’s couch.

The last thing I remembered was watching a movie with Amos.

Opening my other eye, I yawned and spotted a big, familiar figure hunched over the other end of the couch. Amos was slowly sitting up, his dad’s hand on his shoulder as he muttered, “Go to bed.”

The kid yawned huge, barely opening his eyes as he nodded, more than half asleep, and stood up. I’d bet he had no idea where he was or even that he was on the couch with me. Sitting up too, I stretched my arms up over my head and croaked, “’Night, Am.”

My friend let out a grunt as he stumbled away, and I smiled at Rhodes, who was back to standing. He was in his uniform, his belt off, and he had the gentlest expression on his face.

“Hi,” I grumbled, dropping my arms. “What time is it?”

Rhodes looked tired but okay, I thought, yawning again. “Three in the morning. Fell asleep watching TV?”

I nodded, muttering, “Mm-hmm,” and closing one eye as I did it. Oh man, all I needed was a blanket and I’d pass right back out. “Everything okay?”

“Some hunters got lost. I didn’t get service to call and warn you two,” he explained quietly. “Come on then. You’re not sleeping down here.”

Oh.I nodded again, too sleepy to be hurt he’d changed his mind. “Will you watch me walk back to the garage apartment then? Make sure the coyotes don’t get me?”

Rhodes suddenly frowned. “No.”

“But you said—”

He was fast, coming over, his hands going to my elbows and guiding me up to standing. Then his hand slipped into mine, like he’d done it before a million times, his palm cool and rough and big, and he started pulling me to follow him.

Where were we going?

“Rhodes?”

He glanced at me over his shoulder; his facial hair was thick over his jaw and cheeks. I wondered, not for the first time, if it was soft or kind of bristly. I’d bet it tickled.

And just like that, I realized he was leading me toward the stairs. The stairs up. To his room. Someone had hinted once where it was at.

“I can sleep down here,” I whispered, not alarmed but . . . something.

“You want to sleep down here with the bat?”

I stopped walking.

His laugh was so soft I didn’t know whether that surprised me more than the fact he was getting me to go upstairs . . . with him? “Didn’t think so. My bed’s big enough for both of us.” He let out a soft breath. “Or I can take the floor.”

My feet moved, but the rest of me didn’t.

Did he just say his bed was big enough for both of us?

And there was a bat in here?

Or that he could take the floor in his room?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, pal,” I whispered. “I don’t even know your middle name.”

His hand tensed in mine, and he glanced over his shoulder. “John.”

He wasn’t trying to . . . get me to go up there to have sex with him, was he? I didn’t think so—as in really didn’t think so but . . . “Not that I wouldn’t mind having sex with you eventually—”

Rhodes made this terrible choking sound in his throat.

“—but I barely learned your middle name, and I don’t know what you wanted to be when you were growing up, and this is going really fast if you want to do more than just sleep in the same bed together,” I rambled out in a rush, so I had no clue what the hell I was even saying.

Apparently, he barely understood it too because he made another choking sound—not as aggressive—and just looked at me for a long second. “Sometimes I think I know exactly what you’re going to say . . . and then the exact opposite comes out of your mouth,” he whispered back.

Was he laughing?

“No sex, Buddy, just sleep. I’m too tired, and I do know your middle name, but I’m not real big on rushing things, Valeria,” he finally got out. Definitely laughing and trying not to. “But I wanted to be a biologist. It took me a long time, but I got my degree in it. I’m using it better now than I’d dreamed of back then.” He took a deep breath. “What did you want to be?”

“A doctor, but I couldn’t even get through dissecting a frog in high school without throwing up.”

His chuckle sounded rusty.

And I liked it.

“Okay,” I agreed, “just sleep.”

He shook his head and, after a minute, started the journey again. My feet hit the stairs one after another, and even though I was mostly thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him, I still glanced up at the ceiling to make sure there was no bat there. There wasn’t.

Not yet at least.

Were we really going to sleep in the same bed? Or was I going to tell him I could sleep on the floor? Or was he going to sleep on the floor?

I was way too exhausted to think this over so closely. It didn’t help that I had no idea what went on in the dating game anymore. My friends weren’t good examples of real-life dating because their lives were so complicated.

But my thoughts just circled back around to one thing: sex with Rhodes.

I mean, I was all for it eventually. It scared me, made me nervous too.

I’d seen him without a shirt on. He was all brawny and big, and I’d bet he wasn’t lazy at all. I bet he liked being on top.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, I needed not to think about that.

“Rhodes,” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

“In the same bed?”

“I’d rather not sleep on the floor, angel, but I will if you’re not good with it.”

I blinked, and my heart thumped in response.

“Don’t think you want to either. There might be mice running around still. They are nocturnal.”

I was still taking turns looking up at the ceiling and down at the floor when he led us into his bedroom. He didn’t flip on the light, but the moon through his window was huge and bright, illuminating everything with just the right amount to not wake me up too much more than talking about mice and bats had.

Fuck. I was relieved when he closed the door behind him and moved toward the bed, still holding my hand. He pulled the bedspread aside and murmured, “Take this side.”

I did, plopping down on the edge and watching him as he unbuttoned his shirt. When he was almost done, he jerked it out from where it had been stuffed into his pants, finished with the buttons, and shrugged it off. Right in front of me.

I sat there. My mouth went a little dry at the way his undershirt clung to the thick muscles of his upper body. “Are you showering?” I asked without even meaning to.

“Too tired,” he replied softly, folding the shirt and setting it into a hamper I hadn’t spotted in the corner of his room. I wanted to look around . . . but he was stripping.

Rhodes went for his pants then, undoing the tab, then the zipper, and pulling it down . . .

That’s when I glanced up to meet his eyes. He was looking right at me. Busted. I smiled just as he started tugging his pants down his long legs.

“Did you find the hunters?” I asked, hoping my throat sounded husky from sleep and not for another reason.

I was weak and I flicked my gaze down.

He was a boxers guy.

Part of me had expected him to be a tighty-whities type of man, but he wasn’t.

His boxers were dark and short. His thighs were everything I had expected them to be. Someone didn’t skip leg day and hadn’t. Ever.

I swallowed to make sure my mouth was shut.

“Yes. They wandered too far from their campsite, but we found them,” he answered.

He bent down and pulled off his socks, and I swore there was something about his bare feet just visible that seemed more intimate than if he’d been standing there buck naked.

Drawing my legs up, I snuck them under the sheet and the heavy comforter, drawing it up as he pulled his other sock off, still watching me. I was doing this. Sleeping in his bed. Still not sure what any of this meant or where it was going but . . . going along with it.

He had been so nice to me lately for a reason, I understood now. Maybe he’d been distant because of his mom, maybe he’d finally just decided I was decent. I had no clue what drove him to this point now, of leading me to his room.

Yet it didn’t matter.

My mom used to say that most of the time, when you’re on a trail, you get to a point where another one branches off from it, and you have to choose which way you want to go. What you want to see. And I knew right then that I had to make another decision.

For a tiny, brief moment, I wondered if this was fast. I’d been with someone for fourteen years, and it had been almost a year and a half since we’d split up. Should I give myself more time?

But just as quickly as I questioned myself, I came to my decision.

When you lose enough, you learn to take happiness where you can find it. You don’t wait for it to be handed to you. You don’t expect it in big firework-like displays.

You take it in small moments, and sometimes those come shaped in a two-hundred-and-fortyish-pound man going above and beyond. I wanted to understand what was happening. I needed to.

So before I could think twice about what I was doing, what I was setting myself up for, I asked him, “Rhodes?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you call or text me while you were gone?”

I was pretty sure I could hear my heart beating, it was so loud in the silence that came right after my question. Just this thud, thud, thud that rang between my ears as he stood there, looking in my direction. Part of me didn’t expect him to answer until he finally repeated in surprise, “Why?”

Maybe I should’ve saved the question for when it wasn’t three in the morning, but we were here, and I might as well get it out. “Yeah. Why? I thought . . . I thought there was something going on with us, but then I didn’t hear from you.” I pressed my lips together. “Now I’m in your bed and I’m confused with what’s going on. If it means anything.”

He didn’t say a word.

I cleared my throat though, figuring I might as well keep going. “I thought maybe you liked me. As in liked me, liked me. It’s okay if you don’t, if you changed your mind. If you’re just being this nice to me because you’re a good man, but I’d like to know if that’s the case. I’d still like to be your friend anyway.” I swallowed. “It just . . . kind of felt sometimes like we were dating, you know? Minus the physical stuff . . . I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

I heard him suck in a breath before saying, seriously, “We’re not dating.”

I wanted the floor to eat me up. I wanted to get up and walk out, or at least sleep in the living room and take my chances with the bat—

“I’m too old to be anybody’s boyfriend,” Rhodes said in that hoarse, solemn voice that carried so much weight in it. “But I do like you more than I should. More than you might feel comfortable with.”

He didn’t move, and neither did I. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest at his implications. Even my skin prickled.

“I wanted to call you, but I was trying to give you room.”

“Why?” I asked like he’d just said he liked eating mayonnaise straight from the jar.

His answer was a sigh followed by, “Because . . . I’ve been watching you grow for months. I don’t want to be something you grow around. You were with someone who gave you too much shade before, right? I’d rather us take our time than me stunt where you’re going, who you’re becoming.”

I could hear my heartbeat again.

“I know how I want you to feel, but I’m not rushing you. I know how I feel. I haven’t changed my mind about anything, especially not you. I only want you to be sure of what you want.”

I was breathing through my mouth loudly.

“Don’t mistake me giving you space as me not being interested. It’s not every woman I let into my bed, much less into my life, and even more into Amos’s life. Before you, it’d been nobody. So just because I don’t know what your mouth tastes like yet doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to. But Sofie would tell you I’ve got a big, fragile heart, and I think I do, so I need you to know what you want for my sake too, Buddy. Does that make it clear?”

I was having a heart attack. Maybe even melting. As tired as I was, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to sleep next to that all night. He might as well have pinned me down and licked down my body, because I’d never heard anything more erotic or amazing in my life.

And I was sure he knew something was going on within me because I was panting and all I could get out was a breathy “Okay.” Real eloquent. Me who couldn’t shut up ever, who had basically asked for this, had no idea what to say other than “okay.”

Because . . . I knew how I felt too. And I might be more than a little halfway in love with him, I was pretty sure, but . . . he was right. It didn’t feel right yet. Some part of it. Maybe it was all just the physical aspect, but maybe I needed to be certain too. A part of me needed to tread with some caution. I didn’t want to get my heart broken again.

The truth was, I liked him even more for saying those words. For thinking that deeply. I liked him so much in so many ways.

And if we were both on the same page, then that was more important than anything else.

One day I’d know how his lips felt, but it didn’t have to be right at that moment, and that filled me with so much joy and playfulness I couldn’t help but smile, inside and outside. It renewed a need inside of me to win him over. To make him more than my friend.

I wasn’t sure if he could see my face or not, but I still raised my eyebrows and told him in a voice that was way too cheery for how tired—and turned on—I was, “Well, if you want to sleep naked, I’m okay with it.”

The burst of his laughter surprised the shit out of me, and I couldn’t help but laugh too.

This was so right, there was no reason to rush anything.

“No thanks,” he said once his laugh slowed.

I’d made a lot of people laugh in my life, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt this triumphant. “If you change your mind, go for it,” I told him, totally serious. “My body is too tired, but my eyeballs aren’t.”

He laughed some more, the sounds slow and subtle and raspy. If I could’ve bottled it up, I would have, because all I could do when I heard it was smile.

“I don’t sleep naked either, if you’re wondering,” I told him, wanting to lighten the mood.

He laughed again, but it was totally different. Husky. Loaded. Nice.

Take it easy.We were both tired, and we were going to sleep. Right.

I pulled the sheets up to my chin and rolled over, facing the door as Rhodes headed into the bathroom, flipping on the light but leaving the door open. The tap ran briefly; then I heard him brushing his teeth. The water ran again, there was some splashing, and just as I started to get sleepy once more, tucking the pillow in close under my neck, I made sure I wasn’t too far over in either direction.

The light flipped off, and I didn’t bother pretending like I was asleep, but I tried to steady my breathing, thinking of just how sexy my tank top and baggy pajama pants with reindeers on them were.

The bed dipped and there were more sounds of something heavy being set on the nightstand before the familiar beep of his phone being plugged in.

“’Night, Rhodes,” I said.

The bed dipped a little more as the covers were pulled taut at my back, and after a moment, I felt him settle in.

He stretched. He sighed so deeply, I felt bad for how tired he had to be. He’d been gone a lot longer than I’d bet he’d expected.

“Goodnight, Aurora,” I muttered to myself when he didn’t reply.

His chuckle made me smile right before he whispered right back, “Goodnight.”

I rolled over.

He was lying facing me. I strained to see his features. His eyes were already drooping, but there was the faintest little hint of a smile on his incredible mouth.

“Can I ask you something and you won’t get mad?”

His “yes” came a lot faster than I would have expected.

But I braced myself anyway. “It’s kind of personal.”

“Ask.”

“Why doesn’t anyone call you Tobias other than your dad?”

He let out a soft, soft breath. “My mom called me that.”

Could I have asked a worse question? I doubted it. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I was just curious. It’s a nice name.”

“It’s all right,” he replied softly.

I had to fix this. “Just so you know . . . I really like you. More than I probably should too.”

He said one thing and one thing only: “Good.”

I bit my lip again. “Hey, can I ask you one last thing?”

I was pretty sure I hadn’t ruined the night when I heard a lazy grunt. “Yes.”

“Were you being serious about there being a bat or . . . ?”

His sleepy chuckle made me smile. “’Night, angel face.”