“Great.”
“That’s as far as I got, too,” Luke said.
Goldie started. She hadn’t heard him come out of the bathroom. She turned to find him standing with his feet planted, his hands in the pockets of a fresh pair of jeans that hugged him like they needed him to survive. He’d pulled on a navy blue sweater that clung to his chest and arms. It seemed to like him a lot, too, and did wonderful things for his skin and eyes. His hair was still wet. The dark strands clinging to the bold shape of his head had a bit of natural curl when wet.
He walked up next to her and added, “I found it in your jacket. Ring any bells?”
Was there a hint of suspicion or skepticism in his voice? Since she couldn’t admit she thought it was his and was snooping, Goldie shrugged. “My fingers seem to remember it, but my
