5
Vigil
Rather than wariness, a sheepish grin plastered on Dillon’s face as he handed me a plate of cookies. “From my mom. She makes the best chocolate chip cookies ever.”
“Thanks.” I took the plate and glanced across the yards and bushes separating ours.
A dark haired woman stood on their back stoop watching us like a hawk. Protective momma bear—and my d**k twitched even though I couldn’t make her out all that well. She hugged herself and turned away, slipping into the house without a wave, same as Monday night.
“We still on for Sunday?” I asked, returning my focus on Dillon and grabbing a cookie from beneath the wrap to shove in my mouth.
“Yep.”
“Damn, that’s good,” I said around my mouthful.
He grinned, his eyes lighting up like a little kid. “Told ya.”
“Sure it’s okay with you
