It’s pink. It has little cupcakes on it. And it says Kiss the Cook.
Naturally, I oblige. Repeatedly.
By the time we sit down to eat, I’m beginning to wonder whether it’s possible to fall in love with someone in less than twenty-four hours.
Because if it is, I’m in serious trouble.
“So,” Bronson says, putting another piece of toast on my plate. “Tell me about your evidence board.”
I freeze. “The what?”
He raises an eyebrow. “The evidence board in your living room.”
I close my eyes. “Please tell me you forgot about that.”
“Not a chance.”
“It’s just to keep my job interesting.”
“Obviously.” Before he can ask another question, his phone rings.
He glances at the screen. “Derek.”
I immediately straighten. “Do you think it’s about the case?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
He steps out of the room as he answers.
I pretend to appear completely uninterested. Which is difficult when he’s standing approximately six feet away discussing an actual criminal investigation.
Eventually, he hangs up. I stare at him. He stares back.
“Well?” I ask.
“Well, what?”
“BRONSON!”
He laughs. “Relax, sweetheart.”
“Did they find the ring?”
“Not yet.”
I deflate. “Oh.”
“But we confirmed that the insurance policy was recently updated.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
He nods. “The coverage was increased substantially just a few weeks ago.”
Holy shit. I knew it. Well. Technically, I suspected it.
But still. I grab my phone.
“What are you doing?” Bronson asks.