Protecting What's Mine(121)

“Yay them,” she said sarcastically.

“Old time’s sake?” he asked, pointing ahead of them through the windshield.

“Hell. Yes.”

They stopped at the diner, sat at “their” table, and sat on the same side of the booth.

The server, the same woman they had their first time there, paused mid-special retelling to take them in. The bruises, some fresh and some fading, on both their faces. The layers of grime. Linc had some of Mack’s dried blood on his neck and chin. The server grunted. “Holidays sure are hard on some people.”

Mack snorted tea through her nose, and Linc put his head down on the table and laughed until he couldn’t breathe.

When they got home—to the residence that hadn’t burned to the ground—they stripped down and fell into Linc’s bed. Exhausted both physically and mentally. She woke, hours later, dizzy and disoriented but warm and safe anchored by Linc’s arm. Her side hurt like a few dozen hornets had taken a shot at her, but other than that, Mack felt remarkably chipper.

He stirred against her and buried his face in her hair. “We smell,” he sighed but made no attempt to release her.

“Shower?” she suggested.

“Shower.”

They showered carefully, gently, and then spent a very long time staring out of Linc’s gym window at the charred carcass of the cottage Mack had called home for the last three months, the mangled remains of the fence.

“Guess I’m moving in,” she mused over her green tea.

“Damn right you are,” he said.

“Poor Betsy.”

“She’d be proud to give her life this way,” he said. Though Mack thought his eyes looked a little glassy as he stared out at the wrecked truck. Someone had thoughtfully pushed it back into his yard. Betsy’s front end was crunched in, her pristine paint scraped. Her fenders dented. It would take another five years for him to restore her again, Mack bet.

“You know, I came here to start a calmer life,” she said.

“You came here for a new adventure,” he corrected her. “And you found me.”

“Maybe I’ll learn to make jelly.”

“I’ll take up competitive corn hole,” he decided.

She glanced out at the ruins again. “I just keep thinking about all those doilies that went up in flames.”

Linc snorted. “Maybe that can be your new hobby. Flame retardant doilies.”

She put her mug down and ran her hands up his chest. “Or—and I’m just throwing this out here—we could just have a lot of sex all the time.”

“Uh-uh, Dreamy. No sex until you’ve had your wound care follow-up. Doctor’s orders.”

“You asked Dr. Ling that?” Mack was horrified.

“Yep. And double-checked with Russell. He confirmed. I had a feeling you’d try to seduce me.”

There was a knock at the door, and she groaned. “I guess we can’t just hole up here for the rest of the weekend. Can we?”

“Baby, you got shot in a house fire saving my dog from your whack-job sister. We’re lucky they left us alone this long.”

“I feel bad that we ruined everyone’s holiday,” she said. “I had a really good cornbread recipe, too. It involved beer and cheese.”

“I’m sure they’re all fine. They probably got pizza or takeout, and everyone is napping in front of someone’s TV. I heard my sister talking to your foster parents about oven space in the hospital waiting room.”

They found one Sheriff Ty Adler in a fresh uniform on Linc’s doorstep. His cruiser was parked up against the front of the building.

“Soph sent these for you,” he said, holding out a bag with a change of clothes. Comfortable leggings, a soft sweater, an actual bra, and a tube of red, red lipstick.

“Thanks,” Mack said, clutching the bag to her chest in gratitude. “Are you here to catch us up?”

“I can do that on the way.”

“On the way where?” Linc asked.

“We’ve got some business to take care of is all,” Ty explained vaguely.

“She can give her statement to you tomorrow,” Linc growled.

“It’s fine.” Mack sighed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“I’ll drive y’all,” Ty volunteered.

They changed first and then let the sheriff whisk them off. Linc, playing the overprotective hero, refused to leave Mack’s side and insisted they both ride in the back seat.

“So quick recap,” Ty said, glancing their way in the rearview mirror. “Wendy is alive thanks to Doc O’Neil here. She suffered some smoke inhalation and burns. But we got her prints on the gas cans and video footage from your own security system, before it melted, that shows her rolling up into your garage. She stole the extra garage door opener out of the kitchen drawer when she broke into your house a week ago. She’s being belligerent, and I’m told she’ll be meeting with a staff psychiatrist for an evaluation before her ass is carted off to jail for a very, very, very long time.”

“Are you sure he’s not arresting us for something,” Mack whispered, leaning into his side.

“You never know with Benevolence. But I think we can take him if he tries anything funny.” He kissed her on the head and snuggled her closer.