Chapter 20
Tuesday was already shaping up to be another long one at work.
In between two autopsies, Tess had spent the morning scrubbing down the metal examination tables, sterilizing instruments, and taking inventory of supplies.
The air carried the sharp bite of bleach and stainless steel, heavy with the faint undercurrent of formalin that never quite went away.
It had been three days since she saw Brian—three days of short calls and even shorter texts, his time swallowed by the new case. She told herself it didn’t bother her, that she understood how police work went. And she did. Mostly.
She peeled off her gloves and dropped them into the bio-hazard bin, flexing her sore fingers. The clock read a few minutes past noon. Lunch. Finally. She had leftovers in the fridge upstairs—nothing exciting, but she was hungry enough to eat anything.
As she washed her hands, the autopsy suite door swung open. She expected it to be Dr. Hansen, a delivery, or maybe someone dropping off paperwork. Instead, Brian stepped inside, a paper bag in one hand, his expression careful, almost hesitant.
Her pulse gave a ridiculous jump.
“Hi,” she said, trying not to sound too surprised—or too pleased.
“Hey.” He shifted the bag as if it weighed more than it did. “Rafe’s tied up testifying in court today. I was nearby, figured I’d see if you’d eaten yet.”
Her smile came easily this time. “You brought me lunch?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze skimming the room before landing on her again. He looked almost uncertain, like he wasn’t sure how she’d take him showing up at her job just to see her. “Hope that’s okay.”
“More than okay.” Her lips curved wider.
He could’ve shown up with a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and she still would’ve been thrilled.
It wasn’t the food—it was the fact that he’d thought of her at all.
“If you want, we can eat out back on the patio. We have a setup there with tables and chairs under a canopy.”
He grinned, and the wariness she’d noted earlier disappeared. “Sounds good to me.”
Out in the hallway, they had to pass by Patty’s reception desk on their way to the patio. She picked her head up from some paperwork as they approached and grinned in sheer delight. “Well, aren’t you two adorable. About time someone around here brightened Tess’s day.”
Heat climbed Tess’s cheeks. “Patty—”
The woman just waved them along and continued. “Have a pleasant lunch.”
Brian cleared his throat, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or retreat. Tess placed a hand on his back and pushed him forward before anyone came by and embarrassed her. “Come on.”
Outside, several employees from the building’s multiple municipal offices were already enjoying their lunches in the shade.
Tess led Brian to one of the unoccupied tables where he unpacked the bag—sandwiches on club rolls, chips, and bottled water.
She recognized the logo on the bag as being from a popular deli that was about halfway between his headquarters and the M.E. ’s office.
He held up one wrapped sandwich, then the other. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I took a chance—Italian sub or American.” His brows lifted, a playful challenge in his eyes. “Your choice.”
“Oh, I love both. Hmm. Decisions, decisions.” She pointed to the one in his left hand. “I’ll take the American, please.”
He gave her that half-smile she’d come to recognize—equal parts cautious and warm—and passed it over. “Good. I was hoping I didn’t walk in here with something you’d hate.”
“Honestly, I’m so hungry, I would’ve eaten anything. And I’m not that picky when it comes to sandwiches.”
“Good to know.” The smile reached his eyes this time. “My partner could learn from you. Rafe orders lunch like he’s dining at a five-star restaurant—special bread, imported dressing, the works. I swear the deli staff draws straws when they see him coming.”
With their lunches spread out, they ate for a few minutes in easy silence before she asked, “How are your cases going?”
He sighed, leaning against the chair back. “Messy. Gang stuff. Witnesses didn’t see anything noteworthy, surviving victims aren’t talking, and ballistics are still processing. It’s like pulling teeth in the dark.”
She frowned. “Sounds frustrating.”
“That’s one word for it.” His gaze softened. “How’s Andy doing?”
Her chest warmed at the question. “Good. Today’s the last day of school, and he’ll get his final report card.
He thinks he did great on his exams. I’m sure he did.
He studies hard, even in the subjects he doesn’t care for.
I’m proud of him.” A smile tugged at her lips.
“He’s pretty proud of himself, too, though he’d never admit it. ”
Brian’s mouth curved. “Kid’s got every right to be. I figured he’d do fine.” He took a sip of water. “No mentions of any more problems with the gang members?”
Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she shook her head. “No. Although I’m not sure if he would tell me. It’s not that he doesn’t trust me—he’s just a typical teenage boy who thinks he can handle everything and that I don’t need to be involved or even know about any negative stuff he’s dealing with.”
“I remember those days well. At least I had Uncle Dan and my two brothers, who wouldn’t let me pull that on them. I guess when you have a sister, you want to protect her, even if she’s your guardian.”
“I suppose.” She hesitated, then shifted the focus. “What about you? How are you doing? Really.”
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly before he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You mean after the shooting?”
She nodded.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on something in the wooded area across the back parking lot for a moment before meeting hers again.
“I’ve talked to the department psychologist a few times—standard procedure.
She says I’m handling it as well as can be expected.
” His mouth quirked faintly, but there was no humor in it.
“I still jump at sudden noises sometimes. Had a couple of bad dreams. But keeping busy helps.”
Tess studied him, catching the subtle fatigue beneath his steady tone—the faint shadows under his eyes and the tension that’d crept into his shoulders when she’d brought up the subject. He was downplaying it, she knew.
She wanted to tell him that it was okay not to be fine, that surviving a near-death experience didn’t mean he had to pretend it hadn’t shaken him. But instead, she reached for her drink. “I’m glad you’re talking to someone. That’s... that’s good.”
His eyes lingered on her for a moment, something quiet and grateful flickering there. “Yeah. It helps more than I thought it would.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, next subject. What’s happening with your house?”
“Ahhh, the house—” she hesitated, then forced a smile. “Well, I picked a contractor, and the insurance company is covering the full cost. The crew is supposed to start next week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed it doesn’t take forever.”
“You’ll be back home in no time.” Something about the way he said it—solid, certain—made her believe it really would be.
They finished their sandwiches with the kind of quiet that didn’t feel awkward. Tess found herself watching the way the sunlight caught on his profile, the rough line of his jaw. He caught her staring, and instead of looking away, she laughed softly.
“What?” he asked, wary and amused all at once.
“Nothing. Just—this is nice.”
He gave her another of those almost-smiles. “Yeah. It is.”
She took a sip of water, then set the bottle down, her nerves buzzing. “So... tomorrow night. Want to come over for dinner and a movie?”
His brows rose, just a fraction. “You asking me on a date, Ms. Bingham?”
Her cheeks heated at his teasing tone. “Sort of, I guess. Andy will be home, though,” she added quickly. “So it has to be strictly above-board. No—” Her blush spread to her neck and shoulders. “—no hanky-panky with him around. We act like we’re just friends.”
For a moment, his gaze held hers, heat flickering there before he shuttered it. “Friends,” he repeated, his voice low. “I can do that.”
Tess smiled, though her pulse skipped all over the place. Friends. Sure. For now.
The kitchen smelled of garlic and roasted vegetables, and steam fogged the window over the sink as Tess stirred the pasta.
She’d kept the meal simple—something hearty without being fancy.
Andy already knew Brian was coming for dinner and hadn’t been thrilled about it, but she’d made it clear his opinion didn’t change her plans.
Dinner and a movie. That was all this was. Friends spending time together. Still, when the knock came at the back door, her pulse fluttered like it hadn’t gotten the memo.
Brian filled the doorway when she opened it, casual in jeans and a button-down, a six-pack of soda tucked under one arm and a box of microwave popcorn in his hand. His smile was easy but cautious, as if he were testing the temperature of the room before stepping in.
“Hey,” he said. “Hope I’m not too early.”
“You’re right on time.” Tess stepped back to let him in. “And you brought reinforcements.”
“Figured Andy might not appreciate wine with dinner.” He set the sodas and the box on the counter. “And you can’t watch a movie without popcorn. I wasn’t sure if you had any in the house.”
Tess laughed softly. “I didn’t, so thank you for bringing both.”
Before he could say anything else, Andy appeared in the hallway. The teen didn’t bother hiding the scowl tugging at his mouth.
“Hey,” Brian said, his tone steady and friendly. “How’s the job treating you? Dan working you too hard yet?”
Andy shrugged, dropping into a chair at the table. “It’s a hardware store, not boot camp.”
Tess shot him a sharp look. “Andy. Brian isn’t an enemy. Be polite, please.”
He sighed, clearly put upon. “It’s fine. It’s work.”