A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones

“It’s not a take back if I never said it.”

“Here’s how I see this working out,” Sun said, interrupting the lover’s quarrel.

He tucked a hand behind his head, slowly, each movement deliberate, and said, “This should be good.”

“You marry Addison.”

His brows shot up.

“You guys rent that house on Apollo Drive. The pretty one with the ivy?”

Levi nodded. “Oh, yeah. The Duran house.”

“Exactly. Then you, Addison, and the boys move in, you go to police academy even though you could probably teach at it, and then you become my latest and greatest in sixteen weeks. Give or take.”

“You’ve given this some thought.”

“I have. I want you on my team. With your experience, I can hire you on as a sergeant.”

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll bring you in for kidnapping, you’ll go to prison for the next thirty years, the boys will grow up without a father, and Addison will spend the next three decades visiting you in jail. But I hear conjugals are a reward unto themselves.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Can I sleep on it?”

“Sure.” She stood to leave. “You have twenty-four hours. Also,” she turned back to him, “thank you for keeping Elliot safe.”

“From what I hear, I owe you the same thanks.”

“Let’s call it even. Twenty-four hours.” She started to leave, then turned back to him. “I almost forgot. Elliot said you had a contact in the Delmar family. Was it Agent Wilcox?”

“I could tell you—”

“Yeah, yeah.” She left to find Quincy waiting for her in the hall outside Seabright’s room.

“I’m really beginning to question your recruiting techniques,” he said.

“What?” she asked defensively. “They’re effective.”

“Right. Don’t you think you’re playing a dangerous game with Hailey’s life? Have you met her uncle Clay?”

“Shhh,” she shushed, leading him away from prying ears. “For your information, she came to me.”

“Because she’s innocent. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into.”

“Quincy, did she tell you what’s going on?”

“No. She wouldn’t tell me anything. But I can guess. Also, I can hardly talk around her, so it wasn’t like we had an actual conversation after you left yesterday.”

“Wow. How did I not pick up on your infatuation?”

“I’m not—” He gave up. “Does Ravinder know?”

“That you’re in love with his sister?”

“No, about whatever’s going on.”

“Not that I’m aware of, but you know Levi.”

He shrugged. “Not as well as you, obvs.”

There was something terribly charming about a grown man using the word obvs, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.

“Why am I just now learning about all of this?” he asked. “What is Clay Ravinder up to?”

“I didn’t want to involve you until I knew what was going on for sure. And I still don’t. Not exactly.”

He crossed his arms in frustration. “Everyone was right about you growing up.”

“When they said I had a sparkling personality and would probably be queen of the world someday?”

“When they voted you most likely to be institutionalized for inducing mass hysteria in children and small animals.”

“Oh, yeah. I still have the sash.”

Auri thought they would never leave. She loved her grandparents more than banana pudding with Nilla Wafers, which was saying a lot, but she had things to do. People to see. Apologies to give.

She texted Sybil, who’d bombarded her with texts after she’d heard what had happened, giving her the A-OK. Then she looked at Cruz as he slept. He lay on his back but his face was turned toward her. She lay pressed against his side, one arm under her head—the non–submissive hemogoblin side—and one over his chest. His ridiculously long lashes fanned across his cheeks like crescent moons. So. Not. Fair.

She rubbed her nose against his, and he raised his lashes. “I’m going to see her before my grandparents come back,” she whispered.

He nodded sleepily. “I want to go.”

She giggled. “You can’t.”

“They said they’re going to get me up and walking today. May as well start now.”

“Not on your life, Mr. De los Santos.”

The bashful smile that spread across his face melted her. She wouldn’t be surprised if her grandparents found her a mere puddle on the floor when they got back.

“Can you apologize for me, too?”

“Of course.” She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. “And when I get back, we can talk if you want.”

“About?”

She cupped his cheek in her hand. “When you’re ready.”

“If this is about the devil’s doorbell, I was born ready.”

She laughed softly and slipped out of bed. Pushing her IV stand wasn’t as difficult as she thought it might be. She snuck past the nurse’s station and got on the elevator, ignoring the few questioning glances that came her way.