“I’m with you, man,” Mike muttered then spoke louder when he asked, “How was she when you left her?”

“Pissed as all hell,” Rivera answered immediately. “Luckily it’s boot camp day so she can go with Jerra and work it out doin’ lunges and squats and whatever-the-fuck they do.”

Mike blinked. Then he asked, “Boot camp?”

“You don’t got those up there in the Hoosier state?”

“Yeah, we do. Just that Dusty does not have an ass that says she goes to boot camps.”

Thankfully.

“Uh…neither does Jerra. Lucky for you and me, bro, we got our hooks into the whole package. A handful and I mean that literally and thank God for it daily. But under all that soft she’s got power which means she can grip tight. You get what I’m sayin’?”

He got it. Saturday and Sunday, he got it a number of times.

“Oh yeah,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I know it, bro. Only one reason a man’s up in a woman’s business after a funeral hook up and that reason ain’t because he’s nostalgic about his ex-girlfriend’s kid sister who he f**ked on the good Samaritan errand of takin’ her mind off her loss.”

Mike started chuckling. Dusty was a straight shooter and it appeared she surrounded herself with the same thing.

“Right,” Rivera went on. “I got calls to make to cover the ass you’re tappin’. Gotta go.”

“Thanks, Rivera.”

“I’d say you’re welcome but I think you get I’m not doin’ this for you.”

“I get that. Thanks all the same.”

“Still, donuts, bro.”

“Look forward to it.”

“Later.”

“Later.”

Mike hit the button on his phone, turned back to his desk, looked across the expanse and the expanse of the desk pushed up against it, front-to-front, and caught his partner, Garrett “Merry” Merrick’s eyes on him.

“You gonna talk?” Merry prompted.

He’d been listening. Mike wasn’t surprised. That’s what partners did.

He hadn’t shared. Not yet. Then again, it had only been a day.

But Merry was his partner. So he shared.

“Remember Dusty Holliday?”

Merry tipped his head to the side and said, “Yeah. Vaguely.”

“She was in town for her brother’s funeral this weekend.”

Merry’s face grew understanding even as his lips twitched and he repeated, this time in a question, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” was all Mike said.

Merry’s mouth stopped twitching and started grinning.

“You hit that?” he asked.

Mike stared at him.

Merry pressed his lips together before he unpressed them to mumble, “You hit it.” Then he said straight out, “Good for you, man.”

“Better,” Mike said shortly and Merry’s eyebrows drew together.

“Better?”

“The One,” Mike declared and Merry’s brows shot up.

“The One?” Merry asked.

“The One,” Mike confirmed.

“In a weekend?” Merry asked.

“In a weekend,” Mike confirmed.

“No shit?” Merry whispered.

“Absolutely no f**kin’ shit,” Mike answered.

Merry whistled. Then he smiled.

Then he repeated, “Good for you, man.”

“Oh yeah,” Mike muttered.

Merry tipped his head to Mike’s phone. “She got issues?”

“An ex who isn’t comfortable with that title.”

“Fuck,” Merry murmured.

“Yeah,” Mike replied. “She’s got a friend who’s a cop. He’s takin’ her back and reporting in.”

“She down with that?”

“It was her idea.”

Merry smiled again. “Least that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Mike repeated then grabbed his phone. “They had an incident. Gotta call her, see if she’s okay then we’ll hit the road.”

Merry tipped up his chin and turned to his computer. Mike tagged his phone and called Dusty. It was the third time that day. None of which he’d connected. This wasn’t surprising, she’d told him the day before she had to get down to it in order to get ready for her showing.

His call went to voicemail.

This time, he was surprised especially after she’d had an incident.

Maybe she was at boot camp.

He left a message. “Hey Angel, it’s me. Checkin’ in. Rivera called. Call me back. Let me know you’re good. Later.”

Then he hit the button to disconnect, caught Merry’s eyes, Merry hit a few keys on his keyboard and Mike pushed out his chair. He grabbed his jacket then they hit the road.

*

Tuesday afternoon…

Dusty’s phone rang a-fucking-gain. Beau swiped it off his coffee table and stared at the display.

Mike Calling.

Fourth time that day.

Well, f**k Mike.

He dropped the phone on his floor, lifted his foot and slammed the heel of his cowboy boot down on it.

The phone crushed instantly to pieces.

He kicked the pieces across the living room of his shitty-ass new apartment that was more of a mess than Dusty could create.

This was because he hadn’t cleaned it in four months and he no longer had Yolanda.

Pulling his eyes from the scattered phone debris, he stomped to his kitchen to get a beer.

*

Wednesday afternoon…

Clarisse was in the kitchen to grab some corn chips when her Dad’s phone rang.

She jumped and stared at it guiltily. This was because it was after school. No was at some girl’s house supposedly studying. Her Dad was at work. And she was supposed to be doing her homework but she was watching TV. This was reiterated ten minutes ago when her Dad came home unexpectedly to get something, caught her watching TV and reminded her she should be doing her homework.

His phone was sitting on the counter. That was weird. He’d gone to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and he must have put it down and forgotten it.

She moved to it and saw the screen said, “Dusty Calling”.

Dusty.

Was that a boy’s name or a hot babe’s name?

Before her mind told her hand to do it, she did what she knew she shouldn’t do. She did what she knew her Dad would get totally ticked at her doing because he got work calls on his phone. She did what she’d catch it for if her Dad ever knew she did it.

Heart hammering and hands suddenly sweating, she hit the button to take the call and put her phone to her ear.