“Apparently, I can’t hack country life. And now I can’t even go into town again. I’m the reverse Clark Kent, too recognizable with my glasses on.”
I couldn’t argue with him. Even in stylish hipster frames, he looked way more like the famous kid from the hit TV show. And the way he kept blinking was concerning. He wasn’t lying about it being the wrong prescription.
“We can have fun here. It’s close to dinner. I’ll make you a sandwich, and then we can do yoga.”
“I’m not a kid to coddle.” He pursed his lips, then blew out a noisy breath. “Sorry. You’re trying to be nice. I’m the one who can’t even manage basics like eye appointments.”
“Stop being mean to yourself.” I dug my fingers into his tense shoulders. “Everyone puts off stuff like that. I’m probably overdue for a physical where they yell at me about my love of fries.”
“I’m not sure why you’re so nice to me.” He continued to sound miserable, and I hated that I couldn’t seem to lift him out of this funk.
“Maybe because you’re sweet,” I teased lightly.
“Feels like I haven’t done nearly enough to deserve how good you are to me.”
“Danny.” I tipped his head back again so he could meet my gaze. “You survived. That’s enough.”
“Whoa.” He nodded as if he hadn’t considered that angle before. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
“Look. I’m sorry your mom is such a piece of work, but you deserve being treated well, and not because you’re famous.”
“I’m sorry your mom is kind of crap too.” Craning his neck, he rested his head against my hand. “Sometimes I get so angry at mine. At everything. It’s not fair. My friend Ezra won the family lottery while mine made bad headline after bad headline.”
“No, it’s not fair,” I agreed, anger on his behalf lacing my words. “It’s okay to get mad. You have reason. You don’t have to always be sweet. It’s okay to get pissed. I get it. This whole thing sucks from your parents to the stalker to the glasses situation.” I handed him a throw pillow from the other chair. “Your yoga’s probably smarter as far as a calm-down method, but sometimes I punch a pillow because life truly is unfair. Sometimes all we have is our anger.”
I’d lost friends on deployment, and my anger and frustration felt like a direct link to my humanity, something that kept me from shoving it all down, becoming a robot.
“Wow. That’s deep.” Danny studied the pillow a long minute before flinging it hard to the floor. “I’m still mad. But feeling less guilty about it.”
“That’s something.” Kneeling next to him, I was about to kiss him when my phone buzzed. I dug it out. “Oh, hey, the universe must have heard me earlier. It’s the detective. Probably for you.”
“Yeah.” His spine stiffened like he was preparing for battle as he accepted the phone and put it on speaker before greeting the detective.
“Danny!” The detective’s voice boomed from the speaker. He was older than me with a commanding, gravelly tone, even when upbeat. “Good news! We have a suspect.”
“Um. Yay?” Danny sounded far more uncertain than he had in days. “So I get to come back?”
“Yup. And actually, we need you back. I need you to look at some lineups, and we still do that the old-fashioned way.” There was a certain caginess to his tone that I didn’t like, but this was Danny’s call, so I stayed quiet as the detective continued. “Think you could get back tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” Danny glanced at me. “That’s so soon.”
“It’s fine,” I interjected. Like I’d told Duncan, I didn’t have to like the detective as long as he did his damn job. And if he had a suspect, then the sooner Danny jumped through the lineup hoops, the sooner this could be behind him. And he needed an eye appointment anyway. “We can pack up in the morning.”
“Listen to your security guy.” The phone crackled with the unwelcome reminder of my role in Danny’s life. It didn’t matter what had happened here. The mission was to keep him safe and not let my emotions get tangled up in what was best for Danny. But my jaw was still overstretched bungee cord tight as he wrapped the call, agreeing to let the detective know when we were back in town.
“I guess we’re going back.” Danny sounded more resigned than excited after handing the phone back to me.
“You can get the glasses issue resolved,” I pointed out. “If you call ahead, maybe you can get an appointment before you have to talk to the detective. Then you’ll feel more like yourself.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” He blinked again, eyes weary behind his glasses. “We should probably figure out dinner. I’m betting you want an early start tomorrow.”
“That is probably best. I don’t want to drive the mountain roads tonight.”