Chelsea stifled a grin and Jane looked down at the bill that Anita had just presented them with, while Anita waited for Emma to answer.

“I’m doing just fine, Mrs. Reasor. As far as Luke, I think he’s working very hard to solve that string of drug burglaries. A lot of overtime for him, I’m afraid.”

Claire patted her shoulder. “That’s too bad, honey. It sure puts a crimp in your budding romance, doesn’t it?”

Emma had no idea what to say to that. She fumbled for a response, finally coming up with, “Well, it’s definitely keeping him busy, that’s for sure.”

“Come on, Grandma,” Samantha said, mouthing “I’m so sorry” to Emma on the way by.

Emma smiled at Samantha and then looked over at Jane and Chelsea, both with grins on their faces.

“Is my relationship with Luke in the local papers?”

“No, but you know what it’s like in a small town. You can’t keep a secret. One person tells another, who tells another, and then there’s social media like Facebook and Twitter. You’re lucky no one got photos of the two of you at the lake together.” Chelsea gave Jane a look. “At least I don’t think there are pictures. Have you seen any?”

“I’m not on social media as much as you. If there were, you’d likely have seen them before me.”

“You two are awful friends. I don’t know why I hang out with you.”

“We’re great friends,” Chelsea said. “The kind who will share wine with you so you can unburden yourself of your deepest secrets.”

Emma paid her portion of the bill and stood. “No, you’re the kind who will ply me with wine so you can pry all my secrets out of me.”

Chelsea shrugged. “Same thing.”

They headed over to Jane’s house. Chelsea was going to stop at the liquor store for wine, and Emma made a run to the grocery store to pick up cheese, crackers, and some fruit. They might not be hungry now—in fact, she was stuffed—but if they were going to be drinking, there would need to be food for later.

They converged on Jane’s place. She already had the wineglasses out.

“I needed to wash them,” she said, taking a towel to dry the insides of the glasses. “Will and I are beer people.”

They gathered up their wineglasses and headed outside to the back deck. It was nice out, and Jane lit the citronella torches to keep the flies and mosquitoes away. Archie, Jane’s new puppy, played nearby. He was so sweet, and had already become a part of the family.

Emma sipped her wine and looked up at the stars, finally able to blow the stress of the past week out of her mind.

“Tough week?” Jane asked.

“Yeah. We had to put down two dogs, one for cancer, the other for an untreatable case of heartworms.”

Chelsea laid her hand on Emma’s arm. “I’m sorry. That’s rough.”

“Yeah, it was, mainly on the families. But I always hate that part of the job. It’s never easy to say good-bye to a pet that you love so much. They become a part of the family.”

She studied her wineglass, melancholy washing over her as she remembered all too well the number of dogs she’d lost over the years.

“This is depressing,” Chelsea said. “And now you reminded me about Scooter, the Scottish terrier I had when I was a kid. I haven’t thought about him in a long time.” She took a long swallow of wine and sighed. “So let’s talk about sex instead.”

Emma cast a smile at Chelsea. “Sorry. I am a downer, aren’t I?”

“Look, honey. I love your job. I love that you’re here in Hope doing your job. But sometimes your job sucks, especially when animals die. So let’s not talk about that tonight. Not when we’re supposed to be having fun. And face it, talking about delicious men and hot sex is way more thrilling than talking about work.”

“Agreed,” Jane said. “We certainly don’t want Chelsea to start talking about math. Or, God forbid, science.”

Chelsea stuck out her tongue. “If we don’t start getting something moving in the let’s-talk-about-Emma’s-sex-life department, I’m going to hit you with a Pythagorean theorem that’ll make your toes curl.”

“Ugh. Help us out here, Emma.”

Emma laughed. “Fine. We had a great time last weekend. Hot sex ensued.”

Chelsea leveled her with a look. “I knew it. I could tell from that hot kiss in the parking lot that you two had hit the sheets.”

Just thinking about the weekend they’d shared at the cabin had Emma heating up all over again. “Yes. It was a great weekend.”

She sipped her wine, and it took her a few seconds to realize the conversation had come to a skidding halt. She lifted her gaze to find both Jane and Chelsea staring at her. “What?”

“That’s it?” Chelsea asked.

Emma gave her a benign smile. “You wanted more?”

“Hell, yes. A lot more. Details, woman. How does he look na**d?”

“I don’t recall. No photos were snapped.”

“Oh, right,” Jane said. “Like visions of Luke na**d aren’t burned into your memory banks.” Jane wagged a finger at her. “Don’t play innocent with us. Your cheeks are already pink.”

“Are they? It might be the wine.”

“And it might be the afterglow, even a week later.” Jane grinned.

“Okay. Despite my hellishly busy and somewhat awful week, there’s been definite afterglow. But he’s also had a lot on his plate, and we haven’t even spoken to each other.”

“Based on what we saw out in the parking lot tonight, it doesn’t look like you two need to say anything at all to each other to reconnect after a week apart.” Chelsea leaned back on the padded chaise, a smug smile on her face.

Just the thought of that moment when she leaned over and kissed him was enough to send her up in flames.

“Your face gives you away every time, Emma,” Jane said.

“The room practically went up ten degrees as you sit there, sipping your wine with that smile on your face.”

Emma shifted her gaze to Jane. “It does, doesn’t it? I can’t help myself. And I swore I wasn’t going to get involved with Luke. With any man, for that matter.”

“Why?” Chelsea asked.

“Because of the clinic. I have my hands full with my job. I just don’t have time for romance.”

“I think that’s a crock,” Chelsea came back. “Seems to me you have plenty of time for romance. Or you’ve been making time. And it doesn’t seem to have hurt your work at the clinic any.”

She didn’t answer.

“Is that really the truth, Emma?” Jane asked. “Or is it something else that’s been holding you back?”

She so wanted to confide in her friends. Her family never discussed her abusive relationship because they knew how hard the past had broken her. Her mother thought she was fragile.

Maybe at one time that had been true. When it had first happened, when she’d first broken away, she’d felt ancient, so brittle and unstable that if someone had looked sideways at her, she would have crumbled.

But that had been years ago. She’d grown stronger, had renewed her confidence. Getting back into school had helped. Working in her chosen field had helped to get her bearings back.

She wasn’t fragile anymore, but she knew her parents felt a certain responsibility for what had happened, though she had never blamed them. Still, she couldn’t talk to them about it, because they felt so guilty, and Molly hadn’t been around when it had happened.

Molly had enough of her own demons to deal with, whatever those might be. If Molly didn’t feel comfortable enough talking to Emma about whatever kept her away from Hope, Emma didn’t want to burden her with what had happened so long ago.

Which left only Chelsea and Jane. She trusted them.

“Emma?” Chelsea asked.

“It’s kind of a really long story. And an ugly one. I don’t come out of it looking at all heroic, or like a strong, confident woman.”

Chelsea grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Honey, we all have something in our past we’re not exactly proud of. Do you think Jane or I would judge you? We’re your friends, and real friends stand by you, no matter what.”

Jane nodded. “We’re here for you. For the bad parts as well as the good.”

It was then Emma knew she could trust them with the ugliness.

So while Jane poured them all another glass of wine, Emma started talking.

Chapter 22

LUKE WAS FRUSTRATED as hell, and tired of working on a case that was going nowhere.

Typically, he closed cases the same day they broke, but this rash of break-ins was scaring the people of his town.

He couldn’t blame them. Who knew where the perpetrator—or perpetrators—would strike next. Just because they’d only been hitting local businesses so far didn’t mean they wouldn’t start breaking and entering people’s homes next.

No avenue they’d explored had turned up any leads. The perps had left no prints, and there was no video on whoever had been hitting these businesses. Any recent parolees or those with drug-related crimes in their backgrounds had all alibied out.

Which left them at square one. And the suspect hadn’t struck again in over a week. Luke supposed that was a good thing, but if they could flush this guy out, they’d have a chance at nabbing him.

Which gave him an idea. Since he was on patrol and close to the precinct, he drove to the station and went into his captain’s office. Pete was at his desk on the phone but motioned for Luke to come in and take a seat. He waited, looking at the awards and certificates on Pete’s wall.

Luke supposed this is what he should aspire to someday—being a captain, leading a team. But he enjoyed being out on the street with Boomer, chasing down perps. This just seemed like a damn lot of paperwork and sitting behind the desk. Maybe his priorities would change several years down the road, when he was tired of walking a beat. He’d like to be a detective someday. But a desk job? He didn’t see that ever appealing to him.

The captain hung up so Luke focused his attention.

“What’s up, McCormack? Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”

“Yes, sir. But I had an idea about these drug burglaries and wanted to run it by you.”

Pete slid back in his chair. “Okay, hit me.”

“They’ve targeted places that are well stocked. What if we set them up?”

“Set them up, how?”

“Get one of the local pharmacies to agree to a massive drug restocking. If someone’s casing these places, they’ll know, and it’ll be a prime target. We wait inside and catch them when they come in to snatch the drugs.”

Pete leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “Your idea has merit, but you realize there’s no guarantee they’ll bust in for the drugs just because a place has been recently stocked.”

“I know, sir, but we have no leads at this point, and I think it’s worth a shot.”

His captain seemed to consider the idea, mainly by staring intently at Luke. “All right. I’ll make some calls and let you know what we can work out. Get back on the street.”

“Yes, sir.”

Feeling better now that he’d suggested a plan, Luke headed back out to the parking lot.

“Hey, McCormack. What are you doing here?”

He walked past Evan Ashbrook and Steve Fortran, a couple of his fellow cops. “Hey. Just stopped to talk to the captain about something. You guys coming on duty or getting off?”

“Coming off working a double, just like you,” Steve said. “This whole burglary thing is chapping my ass. And it’s making my wife cranky.”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine she’s not happy.”

“Not with three kids at home who miss their dad, and her having to juggle her job plus day care and the kids at night. There’s going to be hell to pay if we don’t find this as**ole soon.”

“Have you got anything?” Evan asked.

“Nothing. No leads have panned out yet.”

“Shit.” Steve raked his fingers through his hair. “I keep hoping I’m going to come on duty and the captain’s going to tell me they caught him, and we can go back to life as normal.”

“This guy can’t be that f**king smart,” Ev said to them. “We’ll corner his ass soon enough.”

Luke nodded. “I agree.”

“Speaking of asses, we’d better get inside before the captain has ours. I have reports to file. See you, Luke,” Steve said.

“Later, guys.” Luke headed out to his vehicle and let Boomer out of the backseat, taking him for a walk around the property. There was a park right next to the precinct, so Boomer got to stretch his legs. After about fifteen minutes, he and Boomer got back in the cruiser.

He checked his watch. It was Thursday, the night Emma kept the clinic open late so people could bring their animals in after work. He could stop by, see how she was doing. He hadn’t seen her in a while.

Or he could just go do his damn job and stop thinking about Emma. She was busy, and so was he.

He drove by the clinic and her parking lot was full, so he went past. He’d call her later.

He got called to the scene of an accident, and he forgot all about Emma as he worked the two-car rear-end vehicle collision. The girl who’d hit the minivan had been texting, and when he’d come on the scene she was sobbing, complaining that her dad was going to kill her since he’d already lectured her once about messing with her phone while driving.