Page 58 of Something’s Brewing

“Thanks for taking the garbage down,” she said.

“You bet.”

“It’s been a long day, Sawyer. Thanks for the treat.”

Even though he would have liked to join her for ice cream, he understood her not wanting to entertain him. “I get it. I’ll head out.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m done cleaning and just want to relax the rest of the night. Would you like to join me? I have plenty of ice cream,” she said with a chuckle.

“I’d love to.”

“Good. Although I hope you don’t mind that I had to duct-tape the couch cushions. It’ll have to do until I can pick up a new one. It should still be comfortable enough.”

“I’m sorry about all this.”

“It’s not your fault. Come on. Which kind is your favorite?” She gestured to the four pints of Ben and Jerry’s on the small island. She gathered two spoons and some napkins.

“You choose first,” he said.

She reached for the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.

He chose the Chocolate Fudge Brownie.

They settled on the couch and watched reruns of The Big Bang Theory.

Sawyer stole glances at Frankie when she wasn’t looking. He’d always liked her—her quiet smile, her outgoing and playful personality, and the way she never looked down at him even when everyone else did.

But tonight, all he felt was protective fury. Someone had come after her. And if his gut was right, it was connected to his uncle. He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there were small things that didn’t sit right—not since Madison started asking questions.

After three episodes of Sheldon and Amy’s relationship blossoming, and having polished off their respective pints, Sawyer noticed Frankie had fallen asleep. He stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Frankie, try to get some sleep. Please call me if you need me.”

She stood and smoothed out her hair as she walked him to the door.

“Lock up behind me,” he said. “Good night, Frankie.”

“Good night, Kevin.”

Sawyer drove down the street, turned around and parked directly across from her apartment with his lights off, and kept watch in his truck. If the perpetrators came back, he’d be ready. And in the morning, he’d pay a visit to his uncle. He’d start an investigation on his own if he had to. He’d play it smart, act frustrated with Sheriff Nick Reid, feed his uncle just enough to loosen his tongue.

He was done pretending his uncle was just a tough politician. Tonight had proven what he’d suspected all along: His uncle was corrupt, and he was dangerous. And Sawyer was going to find out exactly how deep his corruption went.

At dawn, he spotted Frankie crossing the street toward his truck with a cup of coffee in her hand. Her black knee-length skirt swayed with each step, her white blouse catching the early light. He shifted in his seat and powered down the window, a smile already tugging at his mouth.

“Good morning,” Frankie said, holding out the to-go cup.

“Morning.”

“I thought you might need coffee. It kind of comes with the job, right? I don’t have any donuts, though. My fridge is pretty bare. Oh! I found a few creamers.” She dropped them into his hand along with a sugar packet.

“Thank you, Frankie. You guessed right. I take it with cream and sugar. Blame my grandma.”

“Good to know.” She smiled. “Did you stay out here all night?”

Sawyer glanced down at the creamer he was peeling open. “Yeah. Figured I’d keep an eye out.”

“Thank you, you are too sweet.”

She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before heading back toward her car.