She lifted her head, pulled his down for a kiss.

“We’re pretty damn proud of it, and preorders are zooming.”

“Let me get you a glass of wine and we’ll toast.”

“Make it a Coke, and I’ll get it. I’ve only got about a half hour. Bradley and I are having a guys’ night in later. I’m picking up pizza. Then there’s popcorn and an X-Men movie marathon.”

“I’m so glad you came by first. I’ll be spending my girls’ night in reading Cobalt Flame’s debut novel.”

“You want me to top off your wine while I’m in there?”

“No, I’m good.”

Even as he went in, she opened to the first page, read the credits.

When he came back out, she stared at him. “You put my name in the credits. ‘Adrian Rizzo, the inspiration.’ You didn’t tell me you were doing that. It wasn’t in the mock-up. I’m so … honored. I mean really honored.”

“It wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for you.” He sat, stretched out his legs. “I think it’s some of our best work, I really do, and it springboarded the Front Guard.”

“How’s that going?”

“Some bumps, a couple turns, and solid progress. And how are you?”

“All good. I was going over more options for the youth center. It’s looking so good, Raylan. They’re working on the grounds now, the court, the playground. And I’ve got my concept well in hand for the new streaming program for fall. So, all good.”

He put a hand over hers. “All?”

She blew out air. “Well, Rachael finally had that face-to-face with Nikki Bennett, and doesn’t think she was altogether truthful. She wants to talk to her uncle, he’s a cop, get his take on what to do next. If there’s enough, I don’t know, to officially question her or search the house, or whatever the hell they’d do.”

She hesitated a moment. “It—all this part? It feels like it’s not connected to me somehow. I know better, but that’s how it feels. I don’t know her. I don’t know her brother. And I was sitting out here on this really nice evening after a really productive day, and it doesn’t feel connected to me.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“But it is. I know.”

“You were sitting here where anybody could drive up that hill.”

“I can’t stay locked in the house. Don’t push on that. I’ve got my mother pushing for me to go to New York and lock myself up in her apartment. I won’t, so she’s coming here. I’ve got Teesha or Maya or Monroe or Jan dropping by pretty much every day. Add you.”

“We love you. I love you.”

“Raylan.”

He tightened his grip on her hand. “I never thought I could or would fall in love again. But I did.”

“You took off your wedding ring,” she told him.

“Yeah, I did. If it was just sex, I’d still be wearing it. But you know that.”

“The thing is …” She didn’t know quite how to say what she felt, or meant. “I haven’t had—I’ve deliberately and carefully avoided having a serious relationship. So I haven’t had any.”

“You’re having one now. You know that, too.”

“I don’t know if I’m any good at it.”

“You’re doing fine so far.”

“It’s early days yet, isn’t it?” she pointed out. “And you aren’t seeing my flaws.”

“I see them.”

Now she shook back her hair and eyed him. “Oh really?”

“Sure. You’re impulsive, especially when you’re pissed or upset. So, the in-your-face video you did, on angry impulse, directed at your asshole poet. You’re scarily goal-oriented. You’re pushy under the guise of Let me help you out. Like, Hey, here’s a little workout guide just for you, and I’m tossing in this equipment. And you’re stubborn about handling things yourself. I figure that comes from your mom overregulating you, and you breaking that hold—impulsive snap—the minute you could. Can’t blame you.”

Coolly, she sipped her wine. “Some people might view those as positive traits.”

“Some might.” He shrugged that off. “Like some people might view my obsessive scheduling as, you know, obsessive. Or my tendency to still run late after obsessive scheduling as careless. Some people might think that talking to my dead wife about taking off my wedding ring equals crazy.”

Adrian let out a sigh. “As an obsessive scheduler, I don’t find that a flaw. And I’ve never known you to be careless. It’s absolutely not crazy for you to talk to Lorilee. Still …

“I don’t know if I’m good at maintaining a real relationship. If I’m good at doing the work, and I know it takes work.”

“Teamwork. Individual work on both sides,” he added. “And a lot of teamwork.”

He had those eyes, she thought, and that heart.

“I know I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. Just like I know I have a deep, unshakable need to be really good at what I do, and refuse to see that as a flaw. And I know you had someone who was really, really good at what we’re talking about here. Probably perfect. That’s intimidating.”

“She was really good at what we’re talking about here. But cliché time: Nobody’s perfect.”

He took a moment, drank some Coke. “It’s hard for me to tell you this about her.”

Sincerely appalled, Adrian threw up both hands. “No, don’t. Raylan, I’m not asking you to compare, to somehow smooth out my self-doubts.”

“I think you need to hear it. It’ll help you understand there are things, however harsh, you learn to deal with in a relationship, you learn to tolerate, even come to understand, in someone you love. Lorilee—”

He broke off, shook his head. “I’m just going to say it, get it done. In all the years we were together, no matter how many times we talked about it, she still—God, she still got Star Wars and Star Trek confused.”

For a second, Adrian could only stare. She felt the laugh bubble up into her throat. Swallowed it down again. “My God, Raylan, that’s … I don’t know how you lived with that.”

“I loved her. She tried to make up for it in countless ways, but … She actually called Spock ‘Dr. Spock.’ Every single time. I think it got to be deliberate, just to torture me.”

“No!” Holding up a hand, Adrian turned her head away. “I don’t know if I can hear any more.”

“Once, I brought home a toy lightsaber for Brad, and she thought it was so cute I’d gotten him something from Star Trek. Or, say a group of us were having a discussion on the history and capabilities of the Millennium Falcon, and she’d ask if that was Captain Kirk’s spaceship. It was humiliating.”

“Don’t say any more. You’ve said enough.”

“I could go on, but I won’t. My point is, love outweighs flaws. I loved her. I love you. I figure that makes me a lucky guy.”

“This isn’t a conversation I expected to have sitting on the porch tonight.”