Page 29 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

“She still putting up with you?”

“Somehow.”

“Good.” Hudson meant it. “You deserve that.”

Wyatt looked at him for a second too long, as if he was deciding whether to say something back in kind, and then didn’t, because that wasn’t how they did this. He swigged his beer then glanced at Hudson’s untouched bottle. “Still can’t handle carbonation?”

Hudson looked at him.

Wyatt shrugged. “You always hated it after.”

“Depends on the day.”

“Mmm.” Wyatt didn’t push it. He just nodded, closing the subject with respect rather than pity. “Funny thing.”

“What?”

“You’ve been back twenty-four hours.”

Hudson already knew where this was going.

“And somehow every story I’ve heard involves Sarah.”

“I’m here for the case. She’s the sheriff.” Hudson kept his voice even. “I’ll be gone within the week.”

Wyatt took a long drink. “Sure.” He turned his bottle in a slow circle on the bar. “Remember when Sarah saved our asses after Ryder wrapped the crab line around the prop?”

Hudson snorted. “You mean when she spent six months extorting us afterward?”

“Still the smartest one there.” Wyatt swigged his beer. “She made detective at twenty-six. The old guard hated it.” Wyatt grinned. “She made them all look stupid. Runs that office better than the last three guys combined and doesn’t ask anyone for credit.”

“I haven’t forgotten who she is, Wyatt.”

“I know you haven’t.” Wyatt set the bottle down. “She still forgets to eat when she’s working, though.”

Hudson said nothing. He’d already figured that out.

Wyatt gave him a side-long look. “Louisa mentioned you were in Benji’s.”

Christ. Hudson shook his head and smiled despite himself.

“Yeah,” Wyatt said. “Thought that might get your attention.”

“It was lunch.”

“Mmm.”

“It was.”

“Sure it was.” Wyatt arched an eyebrow. “Just making sure you remember it’s not your job to look after her. She’s been doing fine at that herself for a long time.”

The words hit a place he’d been carefully avoiding since he arrived in Aurora Cove. Wyatt was stating a fact about his sister and trusting Hudson to be smart enough to hear the quiet warning underneath it.

“Understood,” he said.

“Good.” Wyatt clapped him once on the shoulder, the subject closing as easily as it had opened. “And dinner on Friday? Mom’s excited. She already knows everything else too, so don’t bother trying to manage the narrative.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”