“It’s my duty as your honorary grandpa.”
The threat of tears was back, but I swallowed them down. “All right. He can take it.”
“Ms. Holland,” a deep voice cut in from the entryway to the kitchen.
I turned to take in Anson’s friend, Holt Hartley. Apparently, he no longer worked for the security firm he was still a partner in, but he’d come all the way from Cedar Ridge to do his friend a favor. That told me everything I needed to know about the man.
“I told you. Sutton, please.”
He nodded at me with a smile. “Sorry. Old habit now that I’m back in the field.”
“Fair enough. What can I help you with?”
“We’re done putting in the system. If you’d like me to walk you and your staff through how to use it, I can.”
“Holy testosterone,” Lolli called as she bustled in behind Holt, a package tucked under her arm and copious necklaces jangling. “I don’t think my hormones can handle all this hotness.”
“I’ll give your hormones something to handle,” Walter shot back, a slight growl to his words.
Lolli waved him off. “Oh, hush, you old codger. You’re interrupting my view.” She took a step back and did a head-to-toe sweep of Holt. “You certainly know how to hire help, Sutton.”
Holt’s cheeks flushed as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Are those pot leaves on her cowboy boots?”
Lolli groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those law-and-order types like my grandson. No fun at all.” She drummed her fingers against the parcel under her arm, eyes twinkling. “Though it might be fun to get you to break the rules.”
“Should I be scared?” Holt asked.
“Very,” I muttered.
“Aw, come on now,” Lolli shot at me. “You might be taken now, but you’re not dead.”
I grinned at her. “I might be alive, but I also don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”
Disappointment slid through Lolli’s features. “Oh, all right. Here. Open this.” She handed me the package wrapped in brown butcherpaper. “It’s for you. I wanted to do something to brighten your day. I thought it would be perfect as bakery décor.”
Wariness slid through me as I took the present, which was obviously some kind of artwork. Given what she’d gifted many of the people in the Colson family, the work ofartcould be anything. But the fact that Lolli had taken the time to do something for me, just because she knew I was going through a hard time, had a feeling of belonging settling into me. That wasn’t something I’d felt in a long time. And, God, it was nice.
My fingers slipped under the seam of the wrapping paper, and I tore it from the framed artwork. Letting the paper fall to the floor, I took in the piece. It was a diamond art still life comprised of countless glittering gemstones that formed a tower of baked goods. Everything from pies to cakes, scones to croissants. And at the top of the pile were three donuts. Two round ones and one of those butterscotch bars. The shape they formed was somewhat familiar.
“Is that a…donut dick?” Holt muttered.
Lolli beamed at him. “I knew I liked you. Art is all about the hidden message.”
“And that message is bakery penises?” I squeaked.
“Don’t be a prude, Sutton,” Lolli admonished. “Sex and the human body are things to be celebrated.”
Holt pulled out his phone. “I gotta take a picture of this. My brother Nash is going to want one of these. His two favorite things are donuts and being inappropriate.”
“Well, inappropriate diamond art is Lolli’s specialty,” I said.
“Tell him I take custom orders,” Lolli commanded.
“Sutton.”
I turned at the new voice, one I knew so well now. But the second I took in Cope’s face, I knew something was wrong. I handed the diamond painting to Holt without thinking, crossing to Cope. “What is it?”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “There’s a story in the press about us. They have your identity and photos from your attack in Baltimore.”
