Page 55 of Then Came You

He might have stopped breathing for a few seconds. All he knew was that his blood had rushed to his head, and he wondered if he’d heard her right.

“Unless you have to work in the morning. Or you don’t want to.”

Her vulnerability was showing again. “I don’t have to work until tomorrow afternoon. Decaf sounds good.”

She smiled wide, her white teeth glowing like a beacon of light in the darkness. “Follow me.”

Anywhere, he thought as they turned away and climbed back into their vehicles.

After Gillian had disabled the security system and let them inside, Cocoa was right there to greet them. Sam wasn’t sure who was happier to see whom, man or dog, but he gave Cocoa a few extra pets while Gillian went through to the kitchen.

Then he went to join her, with Cocoa trotting right by his side. The kitchen looked the same as he’d last seen it, with one obvious exception.

“Milk-Bones,” he stated after spotting a big container of them on the kitchen counter. “You switched.” For some reason, the idea pleased him immensely.

Gillian shrugged. “It was either that or waste more money on expensive organic treats.”

“Aw. You missed me,” Sam said, giving Cocoa a scratch behind the ears. Gillian’s back was turned while she scooped coffee grounds into the filter, so she hadn’t seen Cocoa put his head in Sam’s lap.

“I’ll admit it. I did miss you.”

Sam laughed, and she immediately turned around. She looked from him to Cocoa and then turned a pretty shade of pink. “Oops. You were talking to Cocoa, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m glad to hear you missed me too.”

She turned away and went back to fixing their coffee.

“Have you been sleeping better now that you have the security system?”

“Better but not great. It still creeps me out that somebody tried to break in here.”

“The signs will probably deter anyone from trying again.”

He watched her fill their mugs, and then she carefully carried them to the kitchen table. When she sat down and raised the cup to her lips, he realized she hadn’t added cream to hers.

“No cream? I’ve only been gone a couple weeks, and it’s like everything changed around here,” he teased.

She eyed him over her mug. “Change is good, right?”

Something in the way she’d said it and the look in her eyes made his heart thump. “It can be, yes.”

She took a long drink and then sighed. “I’ve been resistant to change up until now.”

He nodded. “Change is good, but it’s not always easy.”

“This past year, whenever I’ve thought about doing something different, it almost felt like I was being disloyal to Owen. Does that make sense?”

Sam had just taken a sip of coffee, and now he sat back and settled in. They were finally communicating the way they should have been from the beginning. Even though it was a difficult topic, he felt a renewed sense of hope. This was how he’d wanted it to be between them—open and honest.

“Yes, it does. You were probably afraid you’d forget about him, but that won’t ever happen.”

She smiled softly like she was relieved that he understood. Then she suddenly sat up straighter. “You said something the last time you were here about understanding what it’s like to lose a loved one. Were you referring to someone in particular?”

He gripped the coffee mug harder as a vision of his cousin popped into his head. “My cousin James. He died after his car was hit by a drunk driver.”

Gillian looked stricken.

“He was only eighteen years old, and we were really close. I had already been thinking about becoming a police officer, but his death cemented my decision.”