Page 31 of Love at First Rep

“Sick burn, Gar-bear. You always have a way with words. Good luck with your friend.”

He drawled the word “friend” as he walked away, not believing Garrett’s words. Rafe hadn’t earned back his best friend status, since Garrett suspected he was hiding something, but was he still a friend? Or was whatever he was hiding going to force Garrett to use his badge to bring him down? He tried to prepare for every possible scenario, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it. Maybe that was when he’d get Campisi to help him.

Like at the beginning of every one of his homicide cases, right now everyone was a suspect, including Rafe.

Garrett brought his focus to his screen, where he pulled up Wilson’s finances. After perusing a few statements, one series of transactions made him pause.

Time to dig into this douchebag’s life.

12

IT HAD BEEN LONGER than Rafe realized since he’d visited an American grocery store. Most of the ones he frequented in Europe could have fit in the self-checkout section of this store.

Few things ever threw Rafe off his game, but he was a bit overwhelmed as he browsed the endless shelves of products and the countless choices of every food he could think of. After wandering around for longer than he’d like to admit, he managed to find everything he needed to make Garrett mussels and clams in a white wine sauce over linguini, except for one important ingredient: wine. Who knew grocery stores in Cherrywood didn’t carry liquor?

After getting directions to the closest liquor store from the cashier and obtaining the wine he needed, he made his way back to Garrett’s place armed with all the ingredients to thank him for letting him crash into his life. He was excited to cook in this kitchen, a chef’s kitchen with every upgrade he could think of and bright afternoon light streaming in through a bay window behind a large oak table. There were little hints of Garrett everywhere: photos of him and his friends held to the fridge by colorful magnets, a bright red apron hanging in the corner, cookbooks with tabbed pages lining a shelf. It was modern and updated and somehow warm all at the same time. Rafe was emptying the bags spread across the kitchen counter when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

A pang of disappointment hit Rafe after seeing the message wasn’t from Garrett like he hoped. Instead, he found a message that replaced his disappointment with guilt.

HERMAN O’CABRÓN: Ahab, be advised target has begun his investigation. Stay close to him and let us know if you need extraction.

RAFE: Stop calling him a target. You know that’s not what he is.

HERMAN O’CABRÓN: Negative. My messages wouldn’t sound nearly as badass.

Rafe rolled his eyes and decided to try yet again to change the rules of the game.

RAFE: Wouldn’t it be easier to just tell him the truth? Isn’t it enough that I vouch for him?

HERMAN O’CABRÓN: Negative, Ahab. Target must be tested. You know the rules. Go catch your white whale.

RAFE: I thought I vetoed that nickname.

HERMAN O’CABRÓN: I un-vetoed it.

“Pain in my ass,” Rafe muttered as he stuffed his phone in his pocket, distracted by his frustration. He prayed this whole thing didn’t blow up in his face.

Someone behind him cleared their throat and muscle memory took over. He brought the intruder to the ground like he’d done hundreds of times before.

“What the fuck?” the guy yelled from face-down on Garrett’s kitchen floor with Rafe twisting one of his arms behind his back and his foot pinning the guy’s other arm to the ground. Rafe held a knife he’d grabbed from the block on the counter close enough to the guy’s face so he’d know exactly how much danger he was in for breaking into Garrett’s house.

“Who are you?” Rafe growled as he settled some of his weight on the intruder’s back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snapped.

“I asked you first. What are you doing here?”

The man wiggled under him, trying to free himself while muttering words Rafe couldn’t make out.

“I used my key, asshole,” the man finally said, his voice strained. “I’m Lucas, and Garrett is going to kick your ass if you don’t get the fuck off me.”

It took a second for his words to make sense in Rafe’s head before he carefully moved the knife away from Lucas’ face and slowly released him from his hold.

Rafe had a few questions running through his head.

Who the hell is this guy?

Is Garrett dating someone?