Evie rubbed her face with both hands. “I hope so. I know I’m not meant to say, ‘but he’s your dad’ to Cody when he says he doesn’t want to see or talk to him because he’s been genuinely hurt by Neil, but I can’t help it.
“Neil’s his father, and I don’t want Cody not to have a relationship with him in case he regrets it later on in life. I also don’t want to force him to go through that pain repeatedly, so I’m just going to let him call the shots from now on.”
None of us could know what the future held, but I could understand what she was saying.
“Give it some time. When our emotions are high after something happens, it’s easy to say something out of resentment or hurt. Afterward, when we’re calm again, we look at it more rationally and make more accurate choices.”
“I know. It makes me want to punch Neil in the face, though.” The mental image of her doing it made me chuckle. “Don’t think I won’t. I’m a mama bear with fists of fury, and I’m not afraid to use them on anyone who hurts my cub.”
I wasn’t a mama bear, but I was a bear who thought the kid was fucking awesome, so I wouldn’t mind my fist connecting with him. Sadly, as a police officer and mature human being, I couldn’t do that.
“Settle down, Mohammed Ali.” I pulled her in for a semblance of a hug. “Are you going to speak to your lawyer about what happened?”
She exhaled loudly. “Yeah. I spoke to my parents, Maeve, and Roque today, and they all said I needed to let the lawyer know and get some advice. I don’t want to cut Neil off from Cody, but I want to protect my son more.”
I agreed with their advice.
“I think that’s a good idea, baby.” Glancing up at the television screen, I jerked when I saw what was playing on it. “What the hell are you watching?”
“True Lies. I’m a huge Arnie fan.”
That explained why I was looking at the back of a woman dressed in lingerie and heels, doing a dance for a man sitting in the shadows of a dark room.
“I thought it was porn,” I admitted. “Good choice, though.”
“I love Jamie Lee Curtis as well. It’s not fair that she’s looked like that for years. Do you remember her in Trading Places when she played a prostitute?”
Very few men could forget that.
“Of course.”
“Lucky, lucky bitch.”
Kissing her, I turned her back to face the television. “You look just as good in your underwear.”
She was silent for a moment, but then she asked curiously, “How do you know? You only really saw my bra last night.”
I felt my cheeks heat up when I realized what I’d given away.
But did I admit it?
Did I shit.
“I have good night vision. It’s the perk of being a police officer.”
She looked at me over her shoulder with a grin. “You’re lying. Why, Detective Bell, have you been peeking at me?”
Yes. “No.”
Bursting out laughing, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s okay. In that case, I never peeked at you either. I never saw you walking through your house in a towel or your underwear, and I never saw you strip off in the laundry room after you worked out.
“I also never saw anything when Bernice pulled your towel off when you were talking to the delivery guy. I definitely never gave her a treat for that last one, either. That’d just be wrong.”
Throwing my head back, I let out a bark of laughter that almost pushed her off the couch. If it hadn’t been for the arm I had banded around her waist, it might well have happened.
“What’s so funny?” Cody asked from the back of the couch. “God, Mom, what’d you say to him to make him laugh like that?”
“Oh, uh, it was the movie. It’s funny.”
“Old people,” he sighed, shaking his head as he walked away again.
Settling down, I whispered, “Good catch.”
“When you’re friends with Jacinda, you learn to be quick with replies to questions like that. She’s put me in enough awkward situations to make me the master of child deception.”
Now that I could believe.
We managed to finish the movie without falling asleep, even though we were both losing the battle by the end. Once we’d let the dogs out to go potty and Cody had called them back into his room, we somewhat stumbled through to Evie’s bedroom.
“Which side do you want?” she slurred, face planting on the mattress.
My side preference was standard—whichever one had the alarm clock on it and phone charger.
Looking between both of her tables, I saw the former requirement was missing from both of them.
“Where’s your alarm clock?”
She barely lifted her head when she yelled at Alexa to set an alarm, and I remembered doing just that for her the night of the drunken trampolining.