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“Nice try.” He pinched her hip. “Now, listen . . . Grandaddy’s grandaddy, who he was really close to, was named Buford—”
“Oh, dear God.”
“We could shorten it to Ford.”
“Like your truck.” Helpless laughter shook her shoulders, and he leaned in to swallow the gorgeous sound. “Mary, Mother of God.”
After another hard kiss, he subsided onto his pillow, one arm behind his head, the other tucking her into him. “Think he’ll marry her?”
“You’re asking me?” She wriggled closer into his side.
“Well, yeah.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You read people better than anyone I know.”
“Mmm. Statistically, men are more likely to remarry after losing a spouse.” He sensed her small shrug. “And you don’t want him to be alone.”
“No, of course not.” Trailing a finger down her arm, he eyed the pattern the mercury light threw on the ceiling, filtering through the trees outside. “And she’s a nice person. Louise liked her.”
“Then view her as an addition, rather than an interloper.” She turned her head and brushed her lips over his shoulder. Sensation arced out from the brief caress. “Rigo has added to our lives in many ways.”
“Well, yeah.” He pulled her closer. “There’s that whole mirrored ceiling—”
“Think carefully, Lamar.” She pressed her fist into his side, and he caught a glimpse of her smile. “Do you really want to open that door with your grandfather involved in a new romantic relationship?”
“No.” A grin pulled at him. She accused him of teasing, but she gave as good as she got. “Definitely not.”
On the bedside table, his phone came to life, the ringtone he used for his friends. Disentangling himself from her, he rolled to grab it, frowning at David’s name on the screen. Foreboding trickled over him. David calling after ten at night?
That wasn’t good, at all.
He hefted against the headboard, swiping to answer. “David, man, what’s up?”
“Lamar.” Strain deepened David’s bass voice. “You’re home here, right?”
“I am.” He reached for the lamp, and next to him, Caitlin sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m at Vontressa’s. We can’t find her. Mama hasn’t heard from her since Friday. She didn’t show up for work yesterday, and I checked with the school. She missed both of her classes today. I tried calling her, and her phone is going straight to voicemail.”
Tick frowned. “Is her car there?”
“No.”
“You’ve been inside?”
“No.” David’s sigh trembled over the line, shaky and fearful. “I made her give me the extra key when she signed the lease last week. I helped her unload her stuff Friday night, but I didn’t go in tonight. I know I need to go in and make sure she’s not sick or anything, but I don’t want to go by myself, you know?”
“I get it.” He clenched his jaw. Really, he should have David call the sheriff’s department, wait for a deputy. If he did that, though, David would open that door first, and if Vontressa was in there and something had happened to her . . . he didn’t want David doing that alone. “Give me ten minutes.”
He shoved the covers aside and grabbed his jeans.
“Tick?”
“David’s sister hasn’t been seen since Saturday.” Shrugging into his shirt, he snagged loafers from the dressing room. “He’s at her apartment. I don’t want him going in there by himself.”
“Shouldn’t he call local law enforcement?” She pushed her hair out of her face.
“I’ll have him call once I’m there.” He didn’t have time to explain the intricacies of law enforcement in Chandler County. Hollowell’s boys couldn’t find their asses with both hands, and if something had happened to Vontressa for real . . . well, he’d take the heat for going outside protocol.
He wasn’t an agent, field or supervisory, in this moment. He was a guy, doing a buddy a favor, that was all. He didn’t know anything yet.
