20
Luca
So much for a cosy dinner.
I’d wanted to do something nice for Brooke, but when she called to say her stalker had left another note on her car, I’d had to cancel our reservations at the Italian restaurant in Coquille. Cupid, she called him. More like stupid. And also dead, when I got my hands on that motherfucker.
Or maybe the latest incident was just fate stepping in with size-thirteen shitkickers? I hadn’t been sure how Brooke would react to a date, not with our new “arrangement,” as she’d termed it. Arrangement. As if I could distill what I felt for her down into a handful of calendar entries and a ticking clock.
“We should be together,” Colt read. He’d put on a pair of gloves and slit open the envelope with a penknife before sliding out the note. “And he signed off with th
