Page 46 of Donovan's Men

I stayed on the couch, accepted kisses on the cheek from both of them, and watched as they headed down the stairs together.

A fair amount of time passed before I heard their cars pulling away—well, Tyson’s anyway. Hamish’s was so fricking quiet. Part of me wondered what they’d discussed, and part of me accepted they’d have moments they shared that wouldn’t involve me—and I was okay with that. I would appreciate being looped in, but I wasn’t the jealous type.

When having to decide between getting up to pack for LA and curling into a ball, surrounded by Hamish’s scent, I chose comfort. But pack I would, come tomorrow, because wearing sweats while escorting Julie down the carpet at the Golden Globes didn’t fit my idea of grandeur. And naturally, she’d do up my pants and my shirt for me, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to embrace independence again.

I also didn’t want to think about the fact we were getting on a plane tomorrow. We should’ve gone days ago—with Cole and possibly Caressa—but obviously, that’d all been set back. Altered. Changed.

If not for Meggibeth, I never would’ve met Tyson and Hamish.

Apparently, Cole and Caressa had previously met Tyson, but that investigation was closed. So no reason for me to cross paths with the sexy cop.

I snagged my phone and set my alarm extra early. This wasn’t like me—I liked to be packed and ready at least a day in advance.

Julie’d texted to our group chat to confirm we would meet at the airport in the morning. Kelci had replied on her behalf, as well as Elouise’s, that they’d be there.

I sent a quick confirmation, eyed the lamp, decided shutting it off was way too much hassle, cuddled under the blanket, and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Ten

Tyson

“I’m sorry—could you repeat that?” I stood in Donovan’s living room. Shifting my gaze between Hamish and Donovan.

The latter had been back from Los Angeles and the Golden Globe festivities for several days. We’d hit Friday night, and I was absolutely exhausted. Another murder. Another solved case. The fact the monster killed his girlfriend was bad enough. How he tried to hide the murder was even worse. The only glimmer of light was we’d caught him easily, had all the proof, and he’d be going to jail for a very long time. Little comfort for her family, though.

After finishing the mountain of paperwork—all digital, butpaperworknonetheless—I was looking forward to a shower, a beer, and a Canucks game. And not even necessarily in that order.

Was I planning to visualize my two favorite men? Doing all kinds of erotic things? That would’ve been ahell yes.

Now I was standing with both of them—that was a fantasy come true.

But I was still struggling with Donovan’s words.

He tossed me the keys to his SUV. “We’re going to a cabin in the hills north of Mission City. That’s just over an hour from here—so you can both get back to the city if you need to. Like, in the case of an emergency.”

I blinked. “I can’t just leave the city.”

“Do you have a cat?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Well, no.”

“Houseplant?”

“I’m not sure that’s the point—”

“Plans? Getting together with coworkers?”

Inwardly, I winced. Outwardly, I remained stoic. “I can’t just pick up and leave.”

Hamish raised his hand. “I do believe this is my fault.”

I frowned. “How do you figure?”

“Donovan said he needed intense counseling. Private. I suggested an office or the studio. He said it had to be here. To, uh, maintain propriety, I suggested you might come.” He blushed. “Although given what happened the last time we were all together…maybe that thought had been ill-advised.”

“Doc, this is absolutely not your fault.” I pinned Donovan with my stare. “I suspect we’re being manipulated.”

Donovan pressed a hand to his chest. “Moi? You think I would manipulate you?”