“You’d be surprised what people will travel for,” Babs said. “Good whiskey. Worse men. A museum full of murderers.”
“And Dot’s pie,” Hattie added.
“Obviously,” Babs said. “We’re not animals.”
Sterling’s voice slid in low at my side, warm enough to cut through the chill that newspaper had left on my skin.
“You shouldn’t be walkin’all over town yet, by the way,” he said. “Did you get dizzy?”
“No,” I lied. In reality, my head had absolutely done a faint, swimmy swoop a few times, but that had less to do with my skull bouncing off Big Hank and more to do with the man sitting unfairly close to me.
Babs snorted. “She’s lying.”
Sterling’s gaze dropped to my mouth before lifting back to meet my eyes. “I need to get your number.”
My spine stiffened. “Why?”
A flicker of something warm tugge
