Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Anything I can look for with my civilian eyes?” I replied with a light laugh.
Tobin smirked and pushed off the counter to step closer to me.
“From what Matty has told us, I think you have sharp eyes. I’ll search the ashes and let you know what I find. You should probably focus on the surrounding area and any possible witnesses,” he said before rubbing the back of his neck. “You’d be better at coaxing people to talk than me.”
I gave him a pointed look.
“You’re just fine at talking to people. You’ve already really helped me,” I told him, noting the tension building between us.
“You’re easy to talk to,” Tobin replied. “Learn that on the job?”
I smiled and shook my head.
“From my mom. We would talk for hours about anything and everything. My dad has always been quieter, but I think that leveled them out perfectly,” I said as a bittersweet feeling swelled in my chest. I missed those long talks at night with my mom and the quiet, peaceful mornings with my dad.
“My dad wasn’t the quiet type at all,” Tobin told me with a light laugh. “He had this loud, booming voice that you could hear on the other side of the house.”
My heart fluttered as I heard him laugh, but I detected the same bittersweet feeling that I felt myself. Plus, he spoke about his dad in the past tense.
“When did he pass?” I asked in a gentle voice.
Tobin’s smile wilted a little as he sighed.
“About five years ago. I always admired him for being a firefighter. And for being a damn good dad,” he said. “He died in a fire, but the exact circumstances are unknown. Dealing with a family death is hard enough, but not knowing the details is even worse.”
“And as an arson investigator, you can help people understand what happened,” I replied, a feeling of awe soaring within me. When it came to dealing with the grief of a family death, I completely understood how he felt. There was also mystery behind my mom’s death because the person who hit her was never caught.
“It just made sense to me. It’s kept me pieced together,” Tobin admitted as he lowered his eyes for a moment.
I walked closer and breezed my fingers along the side of his arm, drawing his eyes to mine. That intense gaze of his made my stomach flip, nervousness taking hold of me. He was incredibly handsome, and the fact that he was opening up to me like this just made me want to get even closer.
“I know what you mean. You don’t ever really shake the grief. I think my work as a journalist would make my mom proud. She was a researcher,” I explained. “She studied criminal behavior.”
Tobin smiled a little.
“A researcher. That makes sense,” he said. “I’m sure she’d be proud.”
“Your dad would be proud too,” I assured him, sharing a warm look with him before we both turned toward the entrance of the kitchen at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Angus paused in the doorway, his eyes darting between the two of us as we stood close together.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.
“Bonding over dead parents,” Tobin replied. Something about the dryness of his answer made me laugh a little.
Angus seemed a little taken aback by Tobin’s answer.
“Not what I expected to hear. Are you two alright?” he questioned us as he walked into the kitchen.
“We’re doing fine. Just talking,” I assured him. Grief made us talk in an odd language, but I could see some light in Tobin’s eyes. He was doing okay today and so was I.
“I’m just here for a snack. Gotta take care of your body,” Angus said as he shuffled past us to dig around in the fridge for a cup of yogurt.
“I have to clean the locker room next. Good talking to you, Zoe,” Tobin told me, his hand brushing my waist as he walked past me.
“You too,” I said, my eyes trailing him until he disappeared from sight.
“Help yourself to anything. There are plenty of snacks in the fridge and in the cabinet up there,” Angus said as he gestured around the small kitchen.
I reached up to open the wooden cabinet, but an ache in my back made me wince.
“Ouch,” I gritted out.
Angus frowned and abandoned his yogurt on the counter to walk over to me.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asked as his eyes swept over me.
“I’m just sore when I fell the other day,” I told him as I gingerly gestured to my back.
Angus placed a hand on my hip to steady me and then a gentle hand on the back of my right shoulder, putting a little bit of pressure.
“Here?” he asked.
I grimaced a little and nodded.
Angus removed his hands.
“Over the counter pain relievers will be your best friend. An ice pack won’t hurt either,” he said. “If you need any of those, let me know. There are plenty of medical supplies around here.”