“I know,” Hank replied.

“Oh for goodness sakes,” I clipped out.

“My favorite part from last night, outside of the ‘my life began’ speech, was when she told him he was makin’ her dizzy,” Luke shared, feeling verbose for once in his life.

“Didn’t think it was funny at the time, but, in retrospect…” Hank to my shock agreed.

“The part about the dog and the Frisbee was a good touch too,” Luke clearly felt in a talkative mood.

I’d had enough so I cut in. “Don’t you need a drink?” I asked Luke pointedly.

Luke’s half-grin went ful -fledged. “Yeah,” he said but he didn’t move.

“Wel , why don’t you go get one?” I snapped.

He reached out and touched my nose with his finger.

Then he was gone.

I turned into Hank. “I’m beginning to regret my actions last night,” I told him.

“Final y,” he said, sounding relieved and slightly arrogant.

I frowned at him. “Not because I did the wrong thing, but because… never mind,” I stopped and tried to pul away because… never mind,” I stopped and tried to pul away from Hank’s arm but it tightened and I couldn’t move.

“Sunshine?”

I looked up at Hank. “What?”

“You think they’d tease you if they thought you’d done something to regret?” Hank asked.

I thought about it.

“Probably not,” I relented.

“You think they’d tease you if they thought you did the wrong thing?” Hank asked.

I thought about that too.

“I guess not.”

He watched me for a beat then he shook his head.

“Jesus, I can’t believe you hugged Luke Stark. Christ.

They’re probably laughin’ themselves sick in the control room.”

Oh no.

I’d forgotten about the control room.

“Maybe we should leave before I do anything else embarrassing,” I suggested.

“Feel like makin’ any heartfelt speeches?” Hank asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Absolutely not.” His other arm went around me and curled me ful frontal into his body, then his head dipped low.

“Maybe, from now on, those are best just between you and me.”

“Hank Nightingale –” I started, but didn’t finish because he kissed me dizzy.

* * * * *

Saturday morning we were woken up by my mother Saturday morning we were woken up by my mother yel ing through the door to Hank’s bedroom at the same time she was knocking. “Kids! You awake?”

We weren’t, or at least I wasn’t.

“Yeah Mom,” I cal ed my lie.

“Tex is here. We’re spending the day with him and Nancy. We’re taking you out to dinner tonight. Malcolm and Kitty Sue are coming too. Meet you back here at six o’clock.”

“‘Kay,” I shouted then I snuggled deeper into Hank’s warm body, deciding to think about the scary get-to-know-the-parents dinner some other time (or never).

Shamus jerked to his feet when he heard the movement in the other room and he started walking around on the bed, or, more to the point, on us and tried to lick our faces.

Hank’s arms went from around me to around Shamus and he wrestled him away, turning his back to me. Shamus didn’t give much of a struggle as Hank got Shamus to his side and pul ed the dog to his chest and started to rub his bel y.

I got up on my elbow and watched for a few seconds, then rol ed away, snuggled into my pil ow instead of Hank and closed my eyes to go back to sleep.

The bed moved with Hank and Shamus. Shamus obviously let loose, he started to walk on me and snuffle the covers around my body and face.

“What are you doin’?” Hank asked.

“Sleeping,” I replied, even though it was obvious I was not.

not.

“Get up Sunshine.”

“No.”

“Up,” Hank demanded.

“No,” I repeated.

“Sunshine…”

Shamus gave me a ful face lick and I pul ed the covers over my head. No sooner had I got them over my head when they were yanked off, the bed moved when Hank exited it, then I exited it too, but against my wil .

“Whisky!” I shouted, throwing my arms around his shoulders as he carried me into the bathroom.

“Time to shower.”

“I want to sleep,” it came out kind of whiney.

He set me down in the bathroom, his hands went to the hem of my nightie and started pul ing up but I caught his wrists and stopped him.

“Shower, breakfast and then we’l teach Shamus how to play Frisbee,” Hank said.

My head shot up and I looked at him. “Real y?” I asked.

He nodded.

I let go of his wrists, put my arms over my head and he pul ed up my nightie.

* * * * *

Bil y had confessed to beating me up, abducting me, shooting Luke and trying to shoot Hank. Assault, kidnapping and two counts of attempted homicide were kinda big crimes to commit. Hank told me he was going to go down for a long time. And that was just the time he was going to serve in Colorado.

It was Thursday, a week after the big event. Mom and Dad had left a few days earlier: I was going to leave for Chicago on Sunday.

Since our day teaching Shamus to play Frisbee (Shamus learned quickly, I knew he was a smart dog), Hank had been spending al of our time together showing me what normal was like.

I realized normal was good, in fact, normal was downright delicious.

I was curled up on the couch in Hank’s TV room. It was evening, after I’d made Hank lasagna, after we ate it, after we did the dishes and after we settled in to watch a movie.

My phone rang and, as it was displayed on my cel as an unknown number, I flipped open my phone.

“Roxie,” Bil y said.

“Bil y?” I asked, shock in my voice.

I was leaned up against Hank, Shamus was lying in his doggie bed in front of the TV.

Hank’s body tensed when I said Bil y’s name and Shamus felt it from across the room using doggie radar.

Shamus jerked from ful on his side to lying upright. Both human and canine Nightingale boys looked at me.

“Roxie, I’m –” Bil y started.

I flipped the phone shut, opened it again and pressed the button until it went off. Then I threw it on the coffee table.