Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(97)
Vero reached for her phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“This sounds like an emergency. I’m texting your mom.”
Georgia lunged for her.
Nick took me by the hand, luring me away as Vero and my sister wrestled over her phone. He opened my blanket, stretching it to fit around his shoulders and closing us in a cocoon. “Is it wrong that I want you to stay?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I would really, really like to sleep in my own bed tonight.”
“That makes two of us,” he purred in my ear. He captured my lips and kissed me like he was still smoldering.
Wade snuck up behind me and said, “If you two don’t cut that out, we’re going to need a damn fire hose to put you out.”
Nick’s smile was wide as our smoke-blackened faces pulled apart, his bright white teeth shining down at me. He shrugged out of the blanket and wrapped it securely around me, tucking it under my chin.
Vero muttered to herself as she waddled back with her phone. “Javi’s not answering. Maybe we can hitch a ride home with your sister later.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nick said. “Charlie offered to drive you. I want you both to stay inside and lock the doors until I get there.”
“Vero and I will be fine,” I assured him. “Feliks is in Brazil.”
“And I won’t feel good leaving you alone until he’s here, doing hard time in a maximum-security prison.” He tugged me closer by the blanket, his hand soft against my cheek. His slow kiss lingered, becoming another.
“Then I guess we’d better get back to work, Detective,” someone growled.
Nick’s head snapped up. He turned to the stern-faced man standing behind him, putting a little distance between us. “Commander, I was just saying good-bye to my…” I raised a singed eyebrow, curious to hear his next words as he risked a sideways glance at me. “This is Georgia’s sister, Finlay. Finlay, this is Commander Ortega.”
I extended my hand from the blanket. The captain frowned at my soot-stained fingers as he offered me a tight-lipped nod. Unlike the rest of us, his decorated uniform was freshly pressed, his square jaw was freshly shaven, and his high and tight didn’t have a single sterling strand out of place. He frowned at Nick. “Did someone get Ms. Donovan’s statement?”
“You could say that,” Roddy chuckled as he rolled our luggage to Charlie’s car—everything but Vero’s suitcase, which she had insisted on carrying herself.
Nick cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Two statements, actually. Both were very thorough.”
Vero snorted into her hand.
“Then say your good-byes and make it quick,” the commander said. “I want a full debriefing in the staff room in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the commander was gone, Nick drew me close again, making sure the blanket was snug around me. “I’ll come over as soon as I’m finished here.”
“Maybe wait until tomorrow,” I said, wrinkling my nose. We both smelled like a house fire and neither one of us had slept more than an hour or two since Wednesday. All I wanted was a hot bath, a clean pair of underwear, a warm pair of pajamas, a snuggle marathon with my children on the couch, and a very long night’s rest.
Tomorrow, Vero and I would figure out what to do with the money Javi had made from the sale of the Aston. We had enough cash in Vero’s suitcase to pay off her debt to Marco and, if necessary, a little extra to get him off our backs. And as soon as I revised the end of my manuscript, I could collect the rest of my advance. Feliks was halfway around the world, I had an all-you-can-eat buffet of inspiration for my book, and EasyClean was … well, I didn’t really want to think about that.
Everything wasn’t entirely resolved. I still worried about Cam even though Joey had promised he would let me know the minute he heard from him. I still had Carl’s body to relocate and Steven to contend with—Vero’s warrant in Maryland was something we would eventually have to face. And, of course, there was the issue of potty training. But compared to the week Vero and I had just survived, those all seemed like manageable worries.
Charlie appeared, rolling my suitcase behind him, his car keys already in his hand. Nick bit his lip, reluctant to let me go. Charlie clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, partner. I promise to keep a close eye on both of them.”
“Text me when you get home,” Nick said, walking backward toward the training center, grinning at me like a fool. “How about chili and biscuits at my place tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date.” I couldn’t help stealing a preview of his biscuits as he turned and disappeared into the building.
“Your chariot awaits, ladies.” Charlie gestured chivalrously toward a shiny red Cadillac across the parking lot. It looked new, and I already felt bad about the filth we were about to leave in it. Vero grabbed the handle of her suitcase, dragging it behind her. Wrapped in our soot-stained blankets, we followed Charlie to his car.
“Let me help you with that,” he offered, popping the trunk and hefting Vero’s suitcase into it. He slammed it shut, holding the back door of the car open for Vero. When she was buckled in, he set my suitcase on the empty seat beside her. He stopped me as I reached for the passenger side door. I smiled up at him, expecting another gallant gesture as I waited for him to open it for me.