CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
By the time she got home, night had fallen. Despite being tired, she went through her ritual of searching every room before checking for messages. Zero messages.
Stripping down, she climbed into bed, inhaling the scent of Colt where she’d left him sleeping just that morning. Tears didn’t take long to sneak out again.
Life went on, despite her own personal drama. She had no excuse to see or speak to Colt until her next Risqué shift on Thursday night.
Not being a woman to play games in matters of the heart, she decided to give him until the end of her working day. If she hadn’t heard from him by then, she would call him, and they would talk things out. Her decision helped her fall asleep with a greater sense of optimism.
The optimism didn’t last. Just before her pen
