I jammed my AirPods in and opened up a podcast. Great. Fantastic. I was going to sit down and finish my water and listen to the history of the construction of the Hoover Dam, becausethat was a perfect way to relax. And maybe later, when I went out to pick up some food, I’d actually take a look around the city that was going to be my new home?
Yes. That sounded like a solid plan.
But when I propped myself up against the beige padded headboard and settled on the bed, I found the podcast didn’t hold my interest, and after a few minutes I switched over to Spotify. A smile crept on my face when the sounds of Creedence filtered through my headphones. I closed my eyes and let the notes wash over me, and the familiarity of the music had my muscles unclenching.
Taking this jobwaswhat I wanted.
When I’d told Callahan I needed a couple of days off for personal business, he hadn’t even blinked, telling me I was overdue for a break. It meant I’d worked extra hours to get everything up to date before my trip, so I was probably second-guessing myself because I was overtired, that was all.
I guess you’d better get used to that.
“Shut up,” I grumbled at prosecutor not-Marty just as the music cut out and my phone started to ring.
My heart leaped in my chest, and for one wild moment I hoped it was Danny calling, but it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. It was Callahan. I swallowed around my disappointment and took the call.
“Miller? It’s Cal. Sorry to call you when you’re on leave, son, but we have a situation with one of your cases.”
“Oh god, don’t tell me. Let me guess,” I groaned. “Missy and Chad’s divorce is back on.”
“Actually, it’s the tree law case.”
“What?” I swung my legs over the side of the bed so I was sitting upright, instantly alert. “Did Harlan threaten them? Is Danny okay? Do I need to come back early?”
“Actually,” Callahan said, “Danny’s grandmother called. They’ve decided to drop the case.”
CHAPTER 15
DANNY
Isat staring morosely at the TV screen, barely paying attention, too busy wishing Miller was here and we were making out.
But Miller wasn’t here. And we wouldn’t be making out any time soon—or ever. I hadn’t called or texted him since our conversation last week. Back before I’d met Miller, I hadn’t minded spending evenings alone. I’d enjoyed it, even. With four guys living here, the house was hardly ever quiet and I’d liked to savor those times when I could. I’d been happy to chill out and watch TV or maybe play some games or scroll on my laptop.
But now all I could think about was how much I was missing Miller. I’d admit, I’d been tempted to see if he wanted one last hookup before he left town because, let’s be real, the sex was amazing. But it turned out I wasn’t enough of a masochist to put myself through it. Better to rip the Band-Aid right off and get used to the single life again, you know?
And the thing was, I didn’t blame him for grabbing that opportunity with both hands. Miller had never made any secret of the fact that he wasn’t going to hang around forever. The timing sucked, that was all.
And I missed him.
Outside, I could hear Harlan yelling about something, but I ignored it. Over the last week or so, he’d taken to walking around the neighborhood with a flashlight in the evenings. I guessed maybe he’d appointed himself the neighborhood watch, which was on brand for him. He was probably out there yelling at someone who’d let their grass get longer than a half inch.
The front door slammed and Wilder strolled into the living room, his shirt unbuttoned and his abs shining with body glitter. “You’re not gonna believe the client I just had,” he said, dropping next to me on the couch. “It was fucking wild.”
“Wait right there,” I said. I went through to the kitchen and grabbed two beers and came back and handed him one. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Wilder popped the top and took a long swallow. “I get this last-minute booking for a private party, right? The address is that fancy hotel in Hopewell. I go to the room number, and I’m expecting to find a room full of drunk girls with dollar bills, you know?”
I nodded.
Wilder grinned, his teeth gleaming. “Bro, there was a woman, a guy, and a pug.”
“Awhat?”
“Yep. One of those squishy-faced dogs.” Wilder’s grin widened. “So I apologized, thinking it was the wrong room, but no. Turns out this chick wanted to spice up her couple’s night with a strip show.”
I blinked at him. “With herdogthere?”
“Right? It was fucking creepy. So I did my thing and got out of there. She tipped real well, but I swear the dog was judging me the whole time. Those beady little eyes, man.” He shuddered. “Oh, and guess what the dog’s called.”
