Page 44 of Catching Flynn

Flynn’s brain was too sleepy to figure it out. Instead, he grabbed the duster from under the counter, and started cleaning around him.

The bell over the door gave a cheerful jangle. Morning light spilled across the front floorboards, and a woman stepped in carrying a dark glass bottle by the neck.

She looked vaguely familiar.

Oh no.

Flynn blinked slowly. It was her. Middle-aged tween from a few weeks ago.

The lady who’d argued with Flynn about seller-gratification of the naughty kind.

She’d been very specific about the title. Matching his squeaked words like it had been some kind of game.

Oh crap. Flynn wanted to hide, but there wasn’t anywhere he could quickly hide. Unless he knocked everything from under the counter then crawled inside the dusty shelves.

His boss had known what he was doing when he’d named this store. For reasons Flint couldn’t understand why this place was a magnet for dust.

Maybe there was something ancient, buried right under them, and the disrespect of a store built right on top of their burial site caused dust to accumulate twice as fast.

Why did it feel as if that had already happened? Flynn tried to remember then gave up. He was too tired to waist brain cells.

Shit. Middle-aged tween was heading right for him.

Please let that be a regular book. Please let it be murder, gardening, taxes, literally any other category.

Her smile widened when she spotted him. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Flynn braced for psychic and damage.

Near the counter, she lifted the bottle a little. “I brought you something.”

He just stared at the bag. “That’s wine.”

“It is.” She came closer and set it on the counter with a soft clink. “For helping me that day.”

Helped? Flynn had been spiraling so bad, he’d prayed a space rock hit the store.

Flynn simply stared at the bottle. “You brought me actual wine. The good stuff, too.”

A little color touched her cheeks. “You seemed like you needed it.”

“That is the kindest, most accurate thing anyone has said to me in recent memory.” Flynn picked it up, feeling the cool glass in his hand. “Thank you. Seriously. I’m stunned.”

He hadn’t expected her to return, especially with the wine he’d asked for. Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry.

Not until you’ve had a few glasses.

“You’re welcome.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m Adele, by the way. I realized I never told you my name.”

She had a name. He never thought to ask because he was horrible at remembering them. Faces, no problem. Still remembered what his Kindergartener teacher looked like. Vaguely.

“Flynn. Guy who thinks up medical emergencies as backup plans.”

Her laugh came easy, and some of the stiffness in his shoulders eased with it.

From beside him, Zavier straightened. “I’m stepping outside to make a call.”

Flynn looked up. “Bodyguard business?”