The moment their eyes met, they busted out laughing again.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Cait asked, “So, you’re talking to my sis again?”
“You can never let go of anything, eh? At least that’s still the same.”
Cait huffed. “Maybe.”
She smirked and said, “But you’re still bad at deflecting.”
He shook his head and smiled.
“Yeah, okay. Talk with your sis. I’m going back to the car.”
He stood from the bench and walked into the direction of their patrol car.
“Maybe it’s time for a change.”
Halting his steps, he watched Cait walking up next to him.
“A change?” He asked and arched his brow.
“Yeah, I mean. You and Bree are finally together. Maybe it’s time for a change for me too. Maybe a change of scenery? You know, spice things up.”
He followed her lead as she’d passed him. He said against her back, “Oh, you mean you want someone to take the stairs with.”
She turned and walked backwards while smiling at him.
“I see what you did there, Dec. But I also noticed you didn’t deny being with my sister.”
He walked around the patrol car and stepped in. He buckled up and waited for Cait to do the same. He started the vehicle while Cait called them back in. After parking the car, they walked up to the station. He put his arm over Cait’s shoulders.
“Good luck, tonight, Ryan.”
As usual, she narrowed her light blue eyes at him for calling her by her last name.
He bumped his hip to her, and she knocked her fist against his bicep after she stepped out from under his arm.
“Sometimes I forget you were the pimpled boy next door to us. And that you know all about my family.”
He chuckled. “Why else would I wish you good luck?”
Bree’s mother droned on and on about how she found the perfect statue for her boss. Bree took a sip from her tea to hide her yawn. Declan had kept her up all night.
Bree squirmed her thighs together at the thought of bringing Declan to orgasm with her hand. She’d never been so bold in her life.
“What’s up with you, Bree?”
Bree jerked her head in her mother’s direction. Joan Ryan peered over her coffee and narrowed her eyes.
“You’re acting different.”
Before she could dismiss her mother’s observation, her sister Fi added, “I know. You’ve got some color back on your cheeks. It’s almost like you’re no longer heartbroken.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Bree shot up from her mother’s red sofa and excused herself to go to the bathroom. She needed to get out from under her mother’s scrutinizing stare.
Her mother had finally returned from Brazil. She worked as a PA for a billionaire and often lived abroad for months on end. Bree was proud of her achievements. It hadn’t been easy for Joan as a single mom of five daughters.
Bree washed her hands and walked out of the bathroom. She stopped dead in her tracks in the hallway when she overheard her mother.