Cuff Me(13)

Jill gave a happy sigh as she settled back into her seat. “I missed them.”

Missed you too.

“Since when have Anth and Maggie started hosting family dinners?” Jill asked.

“Since Luc moved out.”

Ava shook her head at that. “I still can’t wrap my head around that. Them not living together anymore?”

“That’s what ‘move out’ means.”

“I know,” she said somewhat glumly. “But it’s like the end of an era.”

“Or they just decided to be grown-ups,” Vincent muttered.

Although he’d never admit it, Jill was pretty sure that Vin had always been a bit jealous of the fact that his oldest and youngest brothers had roomed together.

Their grandma had an awesome rent-controlled home on the Upper West side. Too good of a deal for someone not to take advantage of, and since it wasn’t like Vincent was the “roommate type,” Anth and Luc lived together.

Still, despite his insistence that he’d go crazy living there, she sometimes got the feeling that he felt left out.

Especially after their other brother Marco moved to LA awhile back to follow his girlfriend, leaving Vin as the only New York Moretti brother not living on the Upper West Side.

Vincent pulled the car up in front of her apartment, and Jill gave a little happy sigh. Home.

Vin was already out of the car, pulling her bags out of the trunk. “Okay, so Luc’s moved in with Ava, Maggie’s moved in with Anth. What about you?”

He didn’t look up as he easily hoisted her bag to the ground. “What about me?”

She rolled her eyes. “How are you?”

Instead of answering, he reached into the trunk, grabbed her second bag. “What the hell’s in here, rocks?” he asked, hauling her biggest suitcase out of the trunk.

“Yes. Rocks. I just ran around Mom’s backyard this morning finding all the biggest, heaviest rocks I could find and then put them in my suitcase just for you.”

He wheeled them up the sidewalk to her front door and Jill followed after him, digging her keys out of her bag.

She brushed past him to unlock the door as she’d done a hundred times before, but tonight she was strangely aware of his closeness. Of his smell, and his warmth, and…

Oh shit. Shit!

Tom. She’d forgotten about him.

For one terrible, traitorous moment had she actually forgotten she was engaged?

She glanced at Vincent’s irritated profile and swallowed dryly.

Yes. Yes, she had forgotten. Vin had made her forget, and that was just all kinds of weird.

Jill shook her head. She needed to call Tom. They’d texted earlier, the whole “landed safely, love you!” thing, but she needed to talk to him.

Needed to hear his voice.

Needed to stop being so aware of Vin.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, turning to face her partner.

He lifted his eyebrows. “You don’t want help getting your bags inside?”

She rolled her eyes. “They wheel. I can handle tugging them over the doorstep.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as though knowing something else was keeping her from inviting him in, but he said nothing.

They stood still for a long moment, looking at each other.

Jill was oddly relieved to see that he looked exactly as he had when he’d dropped her off at the airport three months ago.

Relieved that despite all the recent changes in her own life, this one thing would stay the same.

His clothes were the same. As homicide detectives, both she and Vin were plainclothed (i.e., no uniform) most of the time, but she liked to joke that Vin had a uniform all his own. Dark jeans. Dark top. Leather jacket.

His always-present aviator glasses were shoved up onto his head, even though the sun had set long ago.

Jill smiled fondly as she reached up to remove them. He always forgot they were there.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, taking the glasses from her without meeting her eyes.

“You got a haircut,” Jill said. “It looks nice.”

His eyes looked up then, and something flickered. Something she didn’t recognize.

Then he shrugged. “I was past due. Mom had been getting on my case.”

She nodded, jingling her keys in her palm. This was normally the point where she would have said something. Would have chattered on happily about how she was getting her hair cut later that week, or did his barber still smell like garlic? Or even a teasing you sure you’re not getting gussied up for a girl?

Tonight, she said none of those things. Tonight, she said what she really wanted to say, even though it betrayed more than she wanted.

“Thanks for the doughnut,” she blurted out. “It was… It meant a lot.”

He rolled his eyes. “It was just a doughnut, Henley.”

Was it though? she wondered.

“Well,” she said, looking down at her keys. “Thanks anyway.”

“Whatever,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

He turned away without another word and started down the walk to his car.

“Hey, Moretti,” she called before she could think better of it.

He turned back.

“I really did miss you,” she said.