Epilogue
Janie
“ARE YOU SURE you’re okay with this?” Riley asked for the tenth time.
“I’m positive.” Janie adjusted the towel at her neck. “It can’t be any worse than the box color I’ve been using for the past year and a half.”
Riley took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “Okay.”
She was barely halfway through the first of the four sections she’d parted her curly hair into when her cell phone started to ring.
“You can get it.” Janie grinned. “I won’t dock your tip.”
Riley hesitated for a second before grabbing her cell from the table with her ungloved hand, swiping across the screen to answer the call. Her eyes widened a second later. “I totally forgot. I’m so sorry.” She chewed her lower lip, looking a little panicked. “Let me see what I can do.”
Jani e didn’t wait for her to hang up before waving one hand at the door. “Go. I can handle this.”
Riley shifted from foot to foot. “But I promised I would color your hair.”
“And you did.” Janie pointed at the right side of her head. “This whole part of it.” She took the brush from Riley’s gloved hand. “Go. Have fun with your friends.”
Riley’s worried expression lingered, but a smile slid into place. “Thank you.” She leaned down to give Janie a tight squeeze. “You’re the best.”
“That’s what I tell your dad all the time.” Janie tipped her head to the door. “I’ll let him know you agree with me.”
Riley nodded. “You should.” She ran to grab her keys, coat, and shoes, carrying them along as she raced back through the kitchen for the door leading to the garage. “Thanks again, J.”
“Be careful and have fun.” She waved as Riley ducked out the door, then turned to the bowlful of mixed color, picking it up just as Devon came down the stairs, fresh from the shower after a day of keeping Moss Creek in line.
“Where’d Riley go?”
“It sounded like she might have forgotten she made plans with her friends tonight.” Janie pointed at her head with the pick end of the brush. “I’m gonna go put the rest of this on. I’ll be back.”
Devon’s eyes skimmed her head then landed on the bowl. “You need help?”
She lifted her brows at him. “You want to play hairdresser?”
“I mean,” he snagged away the bowl, “role play might be a little fun.”
Her head tipped on a laugh. “You are such a nerd.”
“And you picked me, so what does that say about you?” He reached for the brush, taking it and dropping it into the bowl.
“So many things.” Janie went back to the kitchen chair and lowered into the seat, crossing her legs and tucking her feet into the seat. “But it’s nothing that hasn’t been said a million times before.”
“Who said them?” Devon took his spot behind her, setting the bowl onto the towel Riley spread across the table’s surface. “I’ll hunt them down and make them regret it.”
She wasn’t going to name any names. He hadn’t reacted well when he found out Aiden was part of the catalyst that led to her walking out of his life three months ago. “Right. Because it’s such a good idea for cops to turn into vigilantes.” She tipped her head back to look up at him. “How about you focus on your new profession and make my gray hair regret its appearance in my life.”
Devon leaned down to brush one of his whispers of a kiss across her lips. He barely pulled back, mouth hovering over hers. “I could do both.”
Janie leaned up to press a firmer kiss to his upside-down face. “You don’t have enough time to do both, Peters. We have a game to be at in two hours.”
“S hit.” He checked his watch. “That’s right.” Straightening, he looked over the task in front of him. “What’s the plan of attack here?”
Janie explained how to work in rows down each section, painting color on both the front and back side of each slice, then he went to work. The man wasn’t fast by any means, but he was thorough.
Not surprising. That was kind of his MO.
Once her regrowth was well-coated, she straightened, wincing a little with the movement.
And Devon didn’t miss it.
His brows pinched together in concern. “Are they getting bad?”
She shrugged. “Meh.”
The non-answer earned her a frown. “Have you taken anything?”
“Everything except whiskey.” She shot him a mock scowl. “But last time I did that I never heard the end of it.”
Devon’s frown deepened. “Last time you did that, a strange man had to take you home and make sure you didn’t die in your sleep.”
“At least you admit you’re strange.” Janie turned for the front living room. “I’m going to go vacuum while this cooks.”
“No fucking way.” Devon hooked an arm around her waist, pinning her to his side as he pulled open the freezer to fish out an ice pack. “You’re going to relax so those cramps don’t get any worse.” He pressed against her, urging her down the hall. “Yo u know what happens when you try to push through.”
“Are you lecturing me, Peters?” She tipped her head back, careful not to drag color across the shoulder of his Henley. “Because I don’t like being lectured.”
“If you didn’t like being lectured you wouldn’t have agreed to marry me.” They reached the couch and he pointed to the cushions. “Sit. I’m going to get the heating pad from our room.”
She sighed, rolling her eyes even though he was right. Deep down she loved this. Loved his lectures. His forced care.
Actually, it probably wasn’t down that deep anymore. Her love of Devon’s dad ways was pretty much right at the surface.
He was back less than a minute later, plugging in the pad before holding it up, one brow lifted in question. “Front or back?”
They’d discovered rotating the heat and ice actually helped more than just delegating one an official position. It must have kept her rage-filled nerve endings confused, because the past few months her cramps had been remarkably manageable. Still a complete bitch to deal with, but they weren’t debilitating like they’d been in the past.
“Front.” Janie leaned forward so he could tuck the wide ice pack at her lower back, then straightened, resting the heating pad on her front. Letting out a sigh, she relaxed knowing relief was on its way.
“Better?” Devon settled beside her, one wide palm coming to rest on the heating pad, t he steady pressure helping the warmth sink in faster.
“I hope so.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t really want to sit on bleachers miserable.”
“You can stay home.” Devon used his free hand to collect the throw from the end of the couch, releasing her stomach just long enough to spread it over her lower half before putting his palm back in place. “Olivia will understand.”
“No freaking way.” She forced her muscles not to tense. “This is the last game of the season. I’m not missing it.”
Olivia had worked so hard. She would never let the teenager think she was anything but ridiculously proud of her.
Devon studied her face. “I’m assuming that means you won’t consider taking the day off tomorrow either?” He checked the temperature of the pad, cranking it up a degree. “No matter how you’re feeling?”
“Life doesn’t stop for cramps.” She almost let her head fall back against the couch, but caught herself at the last minute. “And with Mariah gone, Maryann Pace is in panic mode. She would have a heart attack if I couldn’t come in.”
“Maryann Pace would get over it.” Devon carefully moved a piece of hair back from her face. “Have you heard from Mariah?”
She nodded, emotion clogging her throat. It made her feel awful about when she almost left. Now she knew how Mariah felt.
And it sucked.
“She said it’s not at all what she expected.” Janie had tried to get more information out of her friend, but Mariah was being oddly closed-lipped about the whole thing.
Which was weird considering she ended up taking the job Janie backed out of.
“I’m sure she’s just really busy.” Devon reassured her the way he had countless times before. “I bet she’ll get it all figured out soon and you’ll get all the gossip.”
Janie blew out a breath. “I hope so.”
Devon’s phone went off, the alarm signaling the end of her processing time.
Janie pushed up with a groan, being careful not to flex too much or move too fast. “I’ll be back.”
She made her way to the second floor and the small bathroom off the bedroom she shared with Devon. Instead of trying to hang her head over the side of the tub, she decided to take a full shower, hoping the heat would knock out any lingering muscle cramps trying to ruin her night.
Once her hair was washed and conditioned and her body was scrubbed clean, she dried off and went to pick an outfit. Going through her jeans, she frowned at the options, dreading the way they would pinch her bloated stomach. Leggings would be comfortable, but not super cute, and she wanted to look a little cool since she’d be spending the evening surrounded by teenagers.
Then an idea came to her and she grabbed a slouchy sweater, a pair of loafers, and a belt.
Ten minutes later, she was dressed, hair slicked with curl cream, and a coat of mascara on her eyes. She checked the clock, then hustled down the stairs, shoes hooked over her fingers.
Gwen was there waiting, ready to go. She gave Janie an up and down look. “You look really cute.”
“Thanks.” Janie grinned as Devon came in, wiggling her brows at him. “Dad jeans for the win, I guess.”
Thank you so much for reading Cowboy and the Convict! I hope you enjoyed Devon and Janie’s story.